Despite Your Reasons
by Kumiko Fukuda
Summary: Semi-AU. Exchanging souls with a supposedly dead boy did not bode well for an adult female like her. Especially when she finds out that the universe she's been dumped in is actually made of dying wills, Flames, and the mafia. Well, it's better to move on from that to something else; like, why is Tsuna a girl? Slow-building OC fic. Several genderbends.
1. Livin' On A Prayer

**Despite Your Reasons**

**Disclaimer: **Katekyo Hitman Reborn belongs to Amano Akira-_sensei_. I only own the idea of the story and my character, that's all.

**Warnings: **AU. Slow development. Several genderbends. Male!OC; biologically. OC's POV. Contains violence and mild sexual themes in later chapters. Several cussing and unorthodox practices.

**Summaries:** Exchanging souls with a supposedly dead boy did not bode well for an adult female like her. Especially since she finds out that the universe she's been dumped in is actually made of dying wills, Flames, assassins, and the mafia. Well, it's better to move on from that to something else; like, why is Tsuna a girl?

**Listening to: **Bon Jovi—Livin' On A Prayer.

* * *

><p>"<em>Noah, I'm scared that I'm dying<em>

_again._

_How have you been? Or where_

_have you been?"_

—_**Caitlyn Siehl, "Noah"**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1: <strong>Livin' On A Prayer

The soft beeps from the machine resounded in the room with a monotonous pattern. I stared at the black screen, breathing peacefully with the help of an oxygen mask curling around my nose. It didn't do anything interesting, aside from breaking a bit from its pattern into another set of beeps, before returning back to its original one. Another set of beats again, then to back to the original. I lost interest from watching my own heartbeat being recorded again and again, finally resuming to my graphic novel.

"I'm not going to do it, you know."

A dull ache throbbed once in my chest. I nodded, looking up from my book. My sister—in all of her glory—crossed her arms defiantly as she tried not to waver under my cold gaze. She gulped, uncrossed and crossed her arms again, shifting uneasily on the leather sofa just across my bedside. I could see that the decision needed time to be made before she gathered the courage to spill it. I didn't blame her, really. She didn't have the obligation to donate her organs for a weak, dying sister; no matter what the ultimatum our parents pressured on her.

"I know, Jay." I softly spoke, toning down my stare when her body relaxed at my words. "You don't have to do this. This is your choice." At her disbelieving look, I added. "And if Dad got angry, tell them that I wanted this too."

Her usually fiery green eyes dimmed, and she sighed as she raked her flowing brownish-red hair. I couldn't help but stare in envy; my own hair fell out after chemo sessions, leaving a potato-like bald head _special for me_. Before I knew it, my bony fingers touched my scalp. I retracted them immediately, flinching when Janie realized my movements and she slipped out of her calm mask—eyes growing a bit wide in guilt.

My sister—Janie "Jay" Collins—was beautiful, even more than me pre-chemo. If she hid her eye-bags beneath those makeups, I think even Victoria Secret would want her to become their model. Her role in the family was the Martyr; a joke my brother, Adam, dubbed hysterically when he's not down in the basement. Jay was an allogeneic donor—the perfect sibling match for me. Her role was to donate her organs to manipulate my body into thinking that it was perfectly healthy, that it wasn't ridden with APL.

"I also know about the lawyer you hired." I decided to break the awkward silence, fidgeting with the hem of my hospital dress—a habit I hadn't learned how to let go.

Jay flinched, head tilting up to scrutinize me oh so carefully. I didn't meet her eyes, only noting the new-looking, crisp white blouse she wore at this visit; Mark must had given that to her as a gift. I repressed a wistful sigh; Mark had always been a romantic to heart.

"It's not what you think-"

I laughed bitterly. It's exactly what I thought, Jayjay. It's all there in your eyes; the 'you don't want to be considered as my replacement and this is too much, asking for your kidney for reasons such as sacrificing your needs above big sister' was almost thrown out. But I only retorted with, "I understand as well about that, Jay. Don't worry." I suppressed my chuckles. I was going to die, after all. Although less drama might be better, but knowing my family, they'd just like to stop acknowledging the fact that I didn't have much time left.

She threw me another disbelieving look, or as I like to dub it: _Bitch face #01._

"Natalia."

"What?" I immediately cut it, wincing when I realized the question turned out colder than I expected.

Jay's reaction was obvious: froze before adopting a defeated-puppy look to her face again. She had this ability to make people feel bad even though she's the one playing the villain role here.

"I hope you don't feel too bad about it."

What?

I narrowed my eyes.

So, her visit was only to inform me of this, and also to console me if I was sad? Anger bubbled in my stomach as I took a few deep breaths to calm me down, closing my eyes. Remember your training, Nate. Count to 10, okay? Start by one pentacle, two pentacle, three pentacle, four pentacle—no, it's not good to think about Mark and boyfriends and the relationships you wouldn't get to experience.

I clenched my eyes as tight as I could, not caring to tear up from _this alien feeling _just clawing inside my chest. I just realized that I'd die alone. I could just imagine it: Antisocial-Nate without a single boy trying to flock around her—_the freak, the weirdo, the sick girl_—would die without experiencing a single romance while pining on her _sister_'s boyfriend.

My sister's boyfriend.

My back felt really stiff from all the sitting position, so I decided to lay down. The hospital's bed was actually quite comfortable, although the pillow's could be hard as rock if you laid your head on the wrong side. I almost groaned in pleasure when I settled in comfortably in my bed.

"Nate?"

Ignoring Jay's plea, I rolled to my side and tucked my knees to my chest. I couldn't stand her voice, not now. Her existence was only because of me, and if I wasn't sick I wouldn't need any donor or anything. So how dare _her_ for trying to do this?

The clawing feeling came back again.

"Go away, Jay." I ordered tiredly, waving her away. "Mark's probably waiting for you already."

Silence descended upon us after that. It took a while before a creak resounded—from the couch probably—and Jay's weight settled down on my bedside, making a rather loud creaking sound as well. My right eye twitched; she really didn't know how to take a cue, did she?

"Nate." A pause. I cracked open my left eye, to see a large hand extended towards me in air. Sam hesitated as I widened my eyes, looking at me unsurely and I could sense thoughts running its course in her smart mind. She sighed after the internal conflict, finally lowering her hand in defeat. I stared at the treatment on her fingers; seriously, manicure? What happened to the tomboy I raised?

"Natalia...," my red-head of a sister began in hesitation, bottle-green eyes trailing on my frail form before wincing and quickly averted her gaze to mine. "Just hear me out on this. I don't want to stand behind your shadow anymore."

I froze. My shadow? Since when did my shadow become something so powerful that her needs suddenly went second? As strict as Dad could be, he still put our needs on the same scale.

"I want to become my own person, and I don't want to sacrifice myself even more."

"And how great is your plan, huh?" I snarled, couldn't help myself from twisting to face her better. "Since when that deciding _not_ to give your kidney for the safety of yourself is a way to become your own individual?"

Her face was flushed in deep red, as she yelled back in anger. "I've given you everything!" I flinched at the volume, half-cradling my ear. "When I was born, Mom gave away my cord blood. Then you had to relapse resulting to ME giving away lymphocytes." Her voice grew louder in each sentences, to point I had closed my eyes to block away the incoming migraines. Couldn't she just stop already? It's not like I didn't know. Besides, I couldn't exactly control my sickly timings.

Besides, Mom died because of _her_.

"Then it's my bone marrow." Jay's voice was shaking, she gripped the metal edge of my bed so tightly, and as I peeked out I could see her skin were turning sheet-white. "Do you _know_ how much that hurt, the process, the whole suction? Were you even awake at that time?!"

Yes, I was awake, and I knew it had been hurt; I knew, I had gone the same process as well. But I couldn't exactly voice my answer right now because of the tightness surrounding my head, like someone pining me into a headlock.

Being sick sucked.

"Ever since then, do you have any idea about my night terrors?"

Now _that_ got my attention. I tried to pry open my eyes, half-confused at this sudden new revelation. "Huh?" I could hear myself asked dumbly. I blamed it on the fatigue. "N-night terrors?"

"They changed scenarios here and there, but they all had the same patterns." My little sister—even though not as mad as before—managed to rein in her fury, even though it was chillingly terrifying for her being able to control her volatile emotions when she just yelled at me several minutes earlier. "All of it had you," she jabbed a finger to me as I winced, "standing above my corpse while putting away everything that pieced my body and I couldn't put them back together again."

I didn't know.

My mouth hung agape. Honest to whoever's up there laughing at the misery of humanity, I didn't know. My Janie's been having night terrors involving _**me**_? Night terror was one problem. But me? I, her big sister who didn't do anything to her because of my condition, who now had to face _death_ because of her lack of conviction?

What kind of a sister was I...?

"Jay, I-"

"Save it, Nate." She sighed, getting up from the bed not without creating another creak. All of the sudden I felt so tiny underneath her gigantic shadow. This was what I had become: a mere parasite to my sister.

Her nimble fingers were playing on the strap of her hand-made bag; a gift from me when I was still healthy around 3 years ago. I forgot for what occasion, though; that's what APL did to people like me: fading our memories. My gaze softened on the display of nervousness, although it wouldn't do anything to my headache.

She opened her plump lips, closing it again with a sigh. She didn't meet my eyes when she finally spoke out. "I'm going. Mark's waiting outside. I don't want to make him worry."

A stolen excuse, but I could brush it off.

"Just... just go away, Jay." The rush of anger had cooled down, stripping me to my fatigues and weariness. I clenched my eyes shut again, shuffling to my side to sleep off my headaches. "I'll see you and your lawyer in Thursday."

I half-expected her to hug me—something she hadn't done since she planned the trial for my death. But my expectation was greeted with silence, a click of the doorknob, and a soft slam of the door in the end. Jay had left, and it's not until 5 more days until I could meet her again.

Despite my hope, I knew this was coming so I shrugged the sudden disappointment in my chest and tried to sleep, snuggling to my pillow like there's no tomorrow.

* * *

><p>"Kassie won't come."<p>

I directed my dull stare to Adam's lanky figure leaning in ease on the sofa. His forest-green eyes bore into my apple-green ones while he was casually raking his messy, brown hair. It was cropped because he's about to go to military school in a few months, and I'd miss him like I missed being healthy again.

I shrugged hearing his blunt words. "Figures." Who would want to see their best-friend in their deathbed?

He seemed surprised at the change of my demeanor. "Whoa, usually you'd bawl like a baby losing their mother or just turn around and give me the silent treatment." His eyes narrowed. "Spit it out. What happened?"

Just tired.

Fed up.

Just wishing that it would just end already.

Instead, I blurted out. "Jay visited me yesterday." I blinked; that's not what I was going to say. Ah crap, now he's probably gonna get a restraining order for Jay.

His gaze turned murderous. "What." I watched him struggle to cool his temper down, smiling a bit from his growing maturity. A few months ago he'd lash out and scream at Jay despite Dad's warnings not to hurt the family. He finally barked out in restrain. "What did she do?"

I shrugged again. "Stating the obvious and speculated." No, really; I had seen this move coming since the day my—hot—oncology doctor, Dr. Chance stated that my kidney stopped functioning and a sacrifice must be made by the allogeneic donor. Despite my memory problems, I could recall the scene like yesterday. Jay's unreadable face—although colored like sour milk, and her tightly clenched fists. She was almost trembling when she looked down at my body. And it chilled me to the core at the look she was giving me; _"This is what I had to deal. This is the thing that has my blood, my organs, my cells. This is what is left from Natalia "Nate" Collins."_

And I knew instantly.

Trying to steer away from the topic, I spoke out. "So... Kassie?"

"She couldn't stand the thought of having to get in into the family problem." He sneered, almost in disgust. I grinned at his immediate response; Adam Collins, big bro of the family, distracted in instant like cat with laser-toy. I gave myself a pat to the back.

I hummed thoughtfully. "Huh. Too bad. I'd have to scratch a few things out of my last will for her in the end."

Adam froze, looking at me with a mixture of tired and worry when he eventually slumped to the couch. His voice was laden with weariness when he replied. "Don't talk about that now. We're not having this conversation. We're going to figure out a way, okay?" Before I could retort back, he brought out a medium-sized black plastic rucksack. "Anyways, here. A gift."

I was positive that my eyes shone with greed when I stretched out my bony arms eagerly to him, discaring about the sleeves hunching on my elbows nor my childish behavior. I had only one thing in my mind right now, and that's Adam giving me something to ease my boredom.

"Gimme, gimme!" I squealed out in my best impression of chipmunks' voice. "Deedee wants her present now!"

Adam burst out laughing before my nurse—my favorite nurse actually—strolled into my room catching both of us out guard with my hands stretched to my currently red-faced brother. Susie's eyes twinkled in mischief as she leered at us. "I didn't expect such ruckus so early in the morning. What's up, fellas?" She gave a shit-eating grin as she changed my IV bag.

Adam had to actually fan himself before he explained, even so still bursting out in chuckles in his explanation. The dork. "Not much, just my sister doing her best squirrel voice when I was about to give her this." He held up the plastic bag.

I scowled. "It's chipmunks, Adam. You don't understand shit about a single pop-culture reference."

Susie's grin grew wider at my reply. "Now, now," she scolded me condescendingly, reminding me of Mom with her way of smiling. It sent a sudden ache to my chest when I properly softened my scowl at her. "We don't want anyone wearing the 'Hat of Shame' because of a mild cussing, do we?"

Even her brown eyes twinkled the same way like Mom.

I forced a groan instead of a sob. "C'mon, Sue. Gimme a break."

Susie only smiled at me. Her eyes flashed with longing as she murmured. "Just like my daughter. Huh. Behave like an adult already, ya idjit." She patted my shoulders before going away.

The journey to adulthood was a scary path, and I didn't want to cross that yet even at 21 years old.

Yelling would leave me with an incredibly sore throat, so I spoke out after her. "You're the best, Susie!"

Her chuckles was as warm as I could remember her. I smiled unconsciously, and when I realized I immediately wiped the grin off my lips. "Alright, alright, kiddo. Go finish the brother-sister business already." Her eyes still had those twinkles when she closed the door behind him with a princess' grace. My eyes bore into spot she just closed earlier, before reluctantly averted them to face Adam.

Adam's longing look almost made me cry. I grimaced; it's been a while since a mother-figure had approached him after all.

"Addie?"

He didn't turn to me, but he shakily stated. "Just like Mom, huh?"

I nodded.

He sighed, turning back to me. "Sometimes I wish she would just... appear or stuff, and fix this problem." Awkward, I was never good at being the shoulder to lean on. "But hey," he shrugged a shoulder. "Mom's gone. I should remember that. And problem's not that easy to fix."

Adam and I really missed Mom. Dad's never been the same since her death.

I stared down to my hands, scrutinizing them like many times when conversations about Mom was left to silence. Adam didn't speak anything for a while, and I didn't mind that. He needed time to think alone; something Dad had never given him since years ago.

"Anyways, here." The plastic rucksack was shoved to my hands, gently. I looked up to Adam, who turned his head away from embarrassment. I snickered at his red ears—definitely embarrassed—before bringing out the content.

It's my turn to look like a deer being caught on headlights.

_FROM HELL_ was titled in bold red letters, adorned with black background and smacked on the end was the label 'Alan Moore' and 'Eddie Campbell' on its side.

I knew Alan Moore. I had read _Watchmen_ when Mark suggested me to dwell into DC and Marvel comics. I couldn't remember anything from the comic except for this part when someone was talking to the Doctor. And I also jotted them down on my journal just in case I need quotes or trivias to remember whenever boredom overcame me.

_"Looked at sky through smoke heavy with human fat and God was not there. The cold, suffocating dark goes on forever and we are alone. Live our lives, lacking anything better to do. Devise reason later. Born from oblivion, bear children, hell-bound as ourselves, go into oblivion. There is nothing else."_

I winced; if Adam knew about this, he'd comment about my sense of literary.

I flipped over the book and took on the summaries. I raised a nonexistent eyebrow. Huh. They were written in painstakingly small, white letters, the kind that made me had to squint first to guess out their meanings but still readable nonetheless. After a while I must conclude that it had something to do with Jack the Ripper and Freemasons and Britain. Plus The Royal Family as well. I hadn't read something British since the latest edition of Black Butler.

I turned the book again so that the cover faced me.

"Thanks, Addie." I whispered softly, letting my fingers trail the glossy title before turning up to look at him. I smiled, weaker than ever, but still a smile nonetheless.

He looked extremely relieved with my gratitude, judging from his relaxing stance and all the light suddenly brightened in his dark-green eyes. "It's a difficult choice." He admitted, slumping his body to the couch a bit too eagerly. "I only saw the title and the author and I know how obsessed you are with all of those angels and demons stuff."

Obsession. I almost snorted. Yeah, that's one way to say it.

"What can I say?" I grinned wryly. "Those stuff are pretty interesting once you know them." At Adam's admonishing huff I took my cue to start opening the book. I almost groaned in frustrations after seeing the tiny panels and cramped prints. The lighting made the letters look blurry. I squinted my eyes again.

A flurry of frustration bubbled up in my head before it died down.

I hated these times, I hated these moments where I just want to appreciate something to discover that I couldn't. Something's just clouding my mind and to my dismay I couldn't do shit about that. The writings stared back at me while I tried to comprehend them. English shouldn't be this excruciatingly difficult! How did a simple comic manage to drill a headache again into my head like I was solving a Codex diagram instead?

A hand snatched my graphic novel. Adam shushed my protests, coughing to relax his throat before beginning to read, sending me—annoyingly—knowing glances each time I opened my mouth to voice my dismay.

Acquiescing to his sudden babying attitude, I grumbled, crossing my arms in front my chest as I found myself being swayed by his readings. Adam's voice had a nice lilt to it, if he could just tone down the attitude then girls would flock around him like sheep. I had the urge to laugh; all of them had a bright future that didn't have me in the picture. My thoughts turned to my written death will, just inside the drawer of the nightstand beside my bed; Susie had volunteered to write it since I couldn't hold a fucking pen to save my life.

I let Adam's voice drone into the background as I thought about Kassie, Jay, the whole family. A pang of sorrow crept into my chest again. I massaged my phantom pain, trying to relax my mind and count to ten like in those meditations, wincing slightly when it's becoming worse.

Would they really miss me after my death?

* * *

><p>I remembered dying like I remembered the contours of my knuckles or the back of my hand. I remembered it like the face Jay made when she ate any grease-contained food in the diner Dad used to take us fishing at his hometown. I remembered it like Adam's frown which resembled Dad so much I had to look away from him whenever he made that particular facial expression.<p>

Dying was cold, the sort which didn't embrace you calmly into the arms of death, but more like the suffocation of being dumped and drowned in freezing ice water.

When I woke up in the middle of night with chill running its course through my body, I only had the thought to call Dad pronto. I scrambled for a phone on the nightstand—accidentally knocking over my oxygen mask—before dialing the emergency call, which led to Dad immediately. While waiting for him to pick up, I punched any buttons I could slam my fist on for the nurse, at the same time trying not to collapse from the extreme chill. I cursed while my body spasm, rendering me drained for a while as my hand immediately stopped punching the emergency button.

_[Natalia? What—] _From his bleary voice, Dad must had just woken up from his beauty sleep. _[Natalia! What happened? Are you okay?] _

I tried to grin wryly, covering my mouth to hold the cough before answering. "Dad. Sorry for-" I had another series of coughs. Damn, was it just me or is it really, REALLY cold in here?

_[Stop talking. I'm going there as fast as I could.] _I widened my eyes. No!

"Dad! Dad! Please hear me out!" I pleaded him. Nonononono, I wouldn't make it at this rate. I should get him to listen. "Dad—" I collapsed into another fit of coughs again.

Tears welled up in my eyes as my throat felt like it's scorching inside, I didn't even realize the nurses which barged into my room.

"Miss Collins!"

It seemed that I did push the emergency button. I swallowed the guilt—almost scratchily against my throat—as I ignored the nurses, focusing back to Dad.

_[Nate, hang in there.] _He sounded so panicked. I frowned; Dad's supposed to keep his composure collected. He's not supposed to sound this way. _[Natalia? Please hang in there, baby. Oh my God please]_

"She's burning up, Susie—"

"Get her to the ER,"

"Go, go, go!"

The nurses whisked me out of the room immediately, almost plucking out the phone from my hands before I gave a noise of discontent. I clamped my eyes shut when lights started to hit in. It's too bright. And too cold. Yet too hot. It's burning. A whimper escaped my mouth.

"Dad... I need you to listen..."

This would be my only chance. From the other side of the line, I could barely make out Jay's confused voice calling out after my father, and Adam's panicked shout.

_[What happened?! What's wrong with her?!]_

_[GET INTO THE FUCKING CAR RIGHT NOW!] _Dad's voice returned to the line. To me. He's barely reining his panic. _[It's gonna be alright, Nate. Just... just hang in there okay? Can you do that, Nate? Can you do that, sweetheart?]_

I gave a tired laugh as Susie shoved an oxygen mask to my face, tying it all over my head. "You haven't called me sweetheart since I was 8 years old." I pointed out at him. My breath's getting labored, even though I had been helped with the flow of oxygen through my body. Why the hell did I take my oxygen mask away before this? And why the hell did I open the window? That's like signing a death warrant.

_But you didn't open the window._ A voice whispered from the back of my mind.

Light flashed into my eyes again. I cringed, still coughing.

There was a distant tire screech before Dad's voice came back to the line. _[Yeah, yeah... And I swear I'm going to start calling you that again, sweetheart. Just... just please...]_

"Dad...," I forced out, almost choking on air. My burning throat contrasted the freezing surging through my entire body. I could barely hold the phone up. One of the nurses turned me to my side and rubbed my back softly.

"Miss Collins. We're going to take that phone after this."

"J-just a moment." I slurred my words in hurry to them. I returned to Dad. "Dad, death-will. In the drawer. I love you."

Black spots filled the edge of my periphery and everything started to move in spirals. Overwhelmed by the dizzying sensation, I dropped the phone. I fucking dropped the phone and brought my hand to my mouth to hold the bile rising at the back of my throat. I couldn't make out anything else besides Ellen's slight panicked voice and the distant sound of Dad's booming yell.

It's cold, and it's choking me. And I was tired of all of this.

I pried open my eyes for the last time before I blacked out. The face of a gruff man entered my vision, although a bit blurry. Dad. And beside him, despite the unrecognizable swirls of lines and colors were Adam and Jay, side by side. I could felt Dad's calloused hand was slapping my cheek as gentle as an ex-veteran could.

Dad's not ready to let me go yet.

I panicked, trying to resist the edging darkness at the corners of my eyes.

Dad still needed me.

More black spots entered my vision and this time Dad's shouts sounded so far away. When I closed my eyes and finally relenting to my slumber, my only thought was that I was sorry that my family had to go through this all over again.

* * *

><p>Jay knew all biological jargon concerning cancer by the time she had reached 10. She studied and researched; about why did she has to give her sister her bone marrow, or why did Dad say that Mom couldn't see her again. Jay knew very much that her existence in this world was extremely special, because unlike all other kids who were conceived under drunken haze of booze or pure lust, she was born made by the medical facilities she had grown to hate in her adulthood.<p>

Sam was made from the most identical DNA match the doctors could find on Jonathan Collins' sperm and Angela Collins' eggs to their eldest daughter, Natalia Collins. Her birth had a purpose, and that's to ensure her sister's health while she was being kept like a sort of second chance when Nate had a sudden nosebleed or other short-spasm. On every hospital visits, Jay was rarely seen without Nate and likewise, Nate was soon attached to her baby sister.

The red-head had been carefully arranging her plan to change that. From the hidden pocket-knife she got from Adam under her skirt, to the rat-poison she had planned to pour on Nate's bland oatmeals. But whatever she did, she could never find the courage to do the deed; to actually murder her sister. It's like having a crutch, a curse. Jay had grown to love Nate just like she had grown to detest her fate.

And then Mark came, like a blessing in this hellhole. Jay pretended that she didn't notice Nate's looks on the male as she flirted with him, crushing away the guilt under her stilettos-shaped mind. She tried to get it past her bed each time a flash of Natalia's unreadable face crossed her mind in ungodly hours. _An eye for an eye_—Jay dubbed it almost fondly; Nate got the organs, Jay got the man. That's fair, right?

And when she watched it herself the way Nate's hand had fallen to the side of the bed and Dad's ever-growing frantic tirades, she knew her job as the Martyr was over. It's done. Her only sole purpose upon arriving in Earth was already gone. She would be an independent woman unrestrained from the clutches of her sister.

So why the hell did she feel so empty right now?

Her green eyes flashed to the corner where her father—a man known once among his peers as The Great Jon—slumped down on a metal bench, cradling himself as if to assure that it would be fine _("it's okay, it's not gonna be like Angela allover again, get a grip")_ while sporting a haunted expression in his face. Even at the age of 15, Jay understood; there's not a single trace left of 'The Great Jon' in her father. Not anymore. He's been reduced to a broken shell supporting a weary soul and the name Jonathan Collins since his wife's death.

Jay's lips thinned. That's it, nothing more.

When Dr. Chance came out from the surgery room with sympathizing, electric-blue eyes and a frown marring his handsome features, Jay's gaze went to the Collins men in half-pitying dread. They had to catch something in Milton's eyes. They had to see **_this_** coming.

Adam had broken his pace the same time Jon looked up expectantly to the doctor's furtive expression. Both of their shoulders slumped, taking in Dr. Chance's posture as the news. Jon's widening eyes were bad enough but the horror and panic in Adam's figure made jay wanted to _cry_.

"I'm sorry." Dr. Chance began, seemed to be thoughtful in choosing his next words so that the male in front of him didn't break further. Adam grew tense beside Jay, fisting his other palm with an expression that clearly said: _You don't know shit about losing your family. _"We've done everything we could to help her."

Jon's figure became smaller as the cradle tightened around his body.

"How did she...?" Adam exchanged a glance with his sister. It's not because of her; if Nate's organs had failed then the family would had known long before.

Dr. Chance sent another apologetic look as his elegant, graceful hands took off his stethoscope from his long neck. Jay watched as the man tucked the medical instrument into his pocket, wondering if the last thumps of Nate's beating heart was heard through the stethoscope before dying away.

"Pneumonia with some complications. We believe that she's been under stress as well." This time, the gaze Adam sent her was **_not_** friendly. At all. "Add that with her acceptance to death, and that's the toll it took her." Dr. Chance's gaze softened into something akin to regret. "I'm really, really sorry, Mr. Collins."

Adam blinked hard, twice. His hand raked his messy hair in frustration, before resting there in defeat. "I just don't understand." He inhaled. "Why did she—" his voice broke.

Why did she had to sign a death warrant like this?

When neither Jon nor Dr. Chance answered, Sam decided to speak up under their behalf. Her voice sounded strange even to her, like she's been asleep and just decided to wake up. "Can we see Nate?" Jay tried to keep the care—the _sorrow, _hidden. Just beneath emotionless tone.

Dr. Chance's piercing gaze was cold and calculative, didn't bother to hide his blatant dislike towards her. Jay flinched under the scrutinizing; too many had known about the case and Dr. Chance wasn't an exception. "Yes. You may." Then he turned to Adam, addressing him instead of her. "Follow me, Mr. Collins."

Adam slightly twitched before he beckoned Jay and Dad to go with him. Jay's father slowly got onto his feet like a zombie, Jay likewise before they followed the young doctor. All through the way, Jay tried to ignore the too-many-memories about Nate and her toothy smiles, pushing it to the back of her mind. She ignored the lights and kept her head down, like the good daughter. Then she saw Nate.

Sam didn't take in the thump beside her for Dad, instead taking on the pale, ashen face and the almond-shaped eyes that would never open again to see the blue skies.

_She's not waking up._

Something snapped inside her. Jay felt her knees wobbled before their strength had failed her. The red-head keeled.

_She's not waking up_.

_And that's **your **fault. _

There was a strained wail coming out somewhere and it took Jay several seconds before she realized that it's **_hers_**. She brought her hands to cup her face, letting tidal waves of emotions burst freely through her like a dam had been broken. Nate's not waking up and it's your fault_fault**FAULT**_—

_"I'm sorry, I'm sorry."_

The only thoughts racing through her mind only contained similar words: forgiveness. Jay repeated the tirade of "sorry" like a mantra, almost hysterical when she remembered a flash of pale-blue lips and closed eyes. _Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, I'm so, so sorry—_

_"Honey, honey, it's okay."_

Susie. Jay slapped away the hand that rubbed her back comfortingly. She didn't deserve that kind of affection, nonetheless from her. It's not okay. It's never going to be okay either._  
><em>

_"I screwed up, I fucking screwed up."_

_"Open your eyes this instant, Nate!"_

_"It's not funny... It's not funny..."_

_"Nate, Nate, I'm sorry."_

_"Answer me, dammit!"_

_"I'm so, so sorry."_

A small part of Jay's rational mind tried to convince her that it's not her fault. Nate died because of pneumonia. Complications as well. Jay didn't go through with her plans. She didn't pour rat-poison to Nate's bland oatmeals, nor did she stabbed her sister with the pocket-knife she had kept hidden under her skirt. Nate went down from a really bad case of pneumonia; the virus had swept past her nonexistent defense system like morning breeze flew past the gigantic birch tree beside their home in Kansas.

If Nate's body was an engine; her engines had combusted beyond saving already even before Jay gave the carburators, pistons, pumps, cylinders—parts. Nate's body hesitated when she received Jay's organs; _everything's too small, the granulytes too fierce, the bone marrow didn't fit_. Jay had always thought that human body was just like parts of the car Dad used to ride, with heart as the engine. It was clear she was mistaken, though; human body didn't work like car parts—they weren't machines.

And that's the first biggest mistake Jay had ever made, before others.

But the larger portion of her mind reminded her, that if only she hesitated on punching in the lawyer's number or if only she wasn't too selfish for her own good, Nate would had lived instead.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

I had better things to do than type a KHR SIOC fanfic in the middle of finals. I had better mind than that.

Soooo... What do you think? The reason I made Nate here a bit uncaring about Kassie (despite the fact she's her best-friend) is because Nate has already accepted that. It's gonna be real hard to incorporate that to the next chapters, because someone who wants to die usually already lost the will to live.

Jay here, is called the martyr because she's the person the family would go to whenever Nate needs second organs. Basically, Jay's existence is only to provide Nate until Nate gets better. Yes, it's morally wrong and unethical as well. Really, really wrong in so many ways.

And honestly, I think we can agree that most people would do this if they were to face the choice to sacrifice a part of yourself to the person you hate or defy your fates. The Collins are a bunch of rebels, hate to be tied down and had to defy to orders. And that includes Jay. Especially Jay since she loves freedom really much and the only reasons she became the donor are because she becomes fond with Nate and she had no choice back then.

KHR characters will show up eventually, maybe around chapter 3 or 4. Anyways, thanks for reading!


	2. Dance With The Devil

**Despite Your Reasons**

**Disclaimer: **Katekyo Hitman Reborn belongs to Amano Akira-_sensei_. I only own my character, that's all.

**Warnings: **AU. Several genderbends. Male!OC; biologically. OC's POV. Contains violence and mild sexual themes in later chapters. Several cussing and unorthodox practices. Atheistic POV.

**Summaries:** Exchanging souls with a supposedly dead boy did not bode well for an adult female like her. Especially since she finds out that the universe she's been dumped in is actually made of dying wills, Flames, assassins, and the mafia. Well, it's better to move on from that to something else; like, why is Tsuna a girl?

**Listening to: **Breaking Benjamin—Dance With The Devil.

* * *

><p><em>"Do not stand at my grave and weep.<em>

_I am not there. I do not sleep._

_Do not stand at my grave and cry;_

_I am not there. I did not die."_

_**—Mary Frye, "Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep"**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2: <strong>Dance With The Devil

Chirping of birds and the shimmer of water and salty air. My body jerked with a start when I realized that I was slowly waking up. Without opening my eyes, I heaved a large quantity of fresh air and almost doubled over with a series of coughs. My head pounded as another wave of words and vocabularies entered, reminding me again about their existence.

I remembered everything. About dead poets and their works; about odd words spoken from dead languages; about black-eyed people with even darker scleras. _Demons_; someone provided, whispering in my subconscious. Like that's common knowledge, like I_ should know that already_. The next, I was holding a pencil, with a grand sketch in front of me depicting the majesty of Babel. I couldn't have made those—my drawings were shit. There were too many flashes of me being another people and that scared me.

_"Natalia—"_

_"The artist"_

_"—prophet"_

_"Healer"_

_"—The best exorcist"_

_"Killer—"_

I was in the shoes of too many people and it scared me. More flashes barged into my mind, stuffing my head with rolls of films that didn't belong to me.

Real angels. Real demons. A God.

I must had been a crazy nut-job in another life.

To be honest, I was not a believer. When I was a little, spunky girl; Heaven was something I imagined would be similar to Alice Sebold's _The Lovely Bones_ with a minor tweak here and there; a place where everything I love would come back to live and there I could watch my family do idiot things so that when their time came, I could review all the embarrassing things they had done. But it was far back then when I still believed in a higher force who would make the booboos no longer hurt if we kept doing what we're told to; praying.

Praying, as if that could cure death.

If there was a _"God"_ up there, he just didn't care for us.

So, I didn't actually expect anything to be waiting for me on the other side, much less to wake up at the fishing spot Dad used to take us in Kansas.

When I slowly opened my eyes—dramatically, in a way that would had made Adam proud—a grungy atmosphere greeted my view. The sky was blue (_it's always blue_), with the right tint of yellow here and there just like those water-color paintings. Beautiful and ethereal, just like the heaven I imagined it would be. My gaze went to the rippling water of the bayou before going to the fishing equipment beside me. Across the edge of the bayou was a wooden cabin—ours, to be exact, still sturdy-looking and _amazing_.

I narrowed my eyes. Something's not right here. The coziness was too ethereal to my liking. I was dead, supposedly. I wasn't supposed to wake up in this place. And if there's heaven... Wasn't there supposed to be Judgement, if following the Christianity? I mean, I wasn't exactly a saint in my previous life so it should be plausible to arrange a Judgement for me. Or shouldn't I get reincarnated immediately if we were following the Buddhists and Hindus? Judging from the previous memories or _hallucinations_ implanted in my brains, the reincarnation concept would be a pretty good option right now.

"Hello, Natalia."

I froze up. Damn, that's one hell of a smooth voice. The only voice which had that kind of Scottish lilt in them was Mark's. It was kind of nostalgic, but why the fuck was someone in here? I whirled around, almost tumbling myself in the process as my eyes widened, taking in the ruffled blond hair and sea-green eyes.

No freaking way.

"Mark...?"

I took a double look. Blond hair. Sea-green eyes. Smooth jawlines. Fuck, it's him.

He took a double stride across the wooden-harbor to get to my side, shoving his hands on his jeans' pockets. The elegant, black shirt he wore accentuated his lanky figure—and damn, was he irresistible. But still—

The fuck was he doing here?! He's supposed to have a really long life ahead and marry Jay and have at least 5 babies with her! What the fuck was he doing in my heaven?!

Mark smiled, corners of mouth pulling upwards as his eyes shaped in crescents. There were eyeliners on them, I noted suspiciously; Mark's not the type of guy who would use makeup. And also, his way of dressing (black shirt and skinny jeans looked hot on him, but not exactly his style) and holding himself was sorta... _off_. Mark usually had these nice vibes pouring off him, while now every instincts I had were screaming for me to **_run_**.

Runrun_run_ _**run away**_ from him**_._**

"You're not Mark, are you?"

He chuckled, looking down at his slim body with vague interest. Then, his gaze turned back to me. "No, I'm not. I am merely borrowing his physical appearance to suit your heart's desire." Mark—no. This **_impostor_**'s eyes gleamed in amusement at my narrowed ones. "You've always been the sharp one, after all, Natalia." The way he threaded on my name was skin-crawling worthy.

There were so many questions running inside my head right now, but the impish glint in those sea-green eyes gave me the cue I needed: he wouldn't answer them.

I settled for grinding my teeth instead. "Who the fuck are you, then?" How dare him for using Mark's body like that. And what the fuck did he mean by suiting my heart's desires? _Who even say things like that anymore?_

Ignoring the last question (but seriously, 'heart's desires'?) I tried to analyze him; starting from the confident smirk on his lips to the way he stood himself. I frowned, he's a bit too confident for his own good, that's for sure. The way he held himself was quite pompous, like a king if I could comment on it. He reminded me of a snake, with the mirth dancing in his eyes.

Ah... he's _that_ kind of guy. He's manipulative and cunning—a set of character traits I had always loathed, even in fictional worlds. Men like him would use everything and do anything to gain control over other people, playing them like mindless marionettes. He's the type of guy who would be the perfect epitome of the devil in my personal preferences. Be the salesman; offer them something, then steal them away until they're left behind with nothing.

The fake tilted his head to side, seeming to find my uneasiness amusing. I scowled, pushing a bit strands of brown hair to tuck in behind my ears.

_Wait...? Hair?_

I froze again, leering at the brown bunch I had on my hands.

No wonder my head felt so heavy.

I had no time to shout in joy about the discovery now—_yassss, my hair's back—_because Fake-Mark decided to give his answer immediately.

"You can call me Luca, Luca Morgernstern." He drawled out, eyes twinkling again. I didn't have to tell that it's a fake name. 'Luca' then settled a palm on his hips, swaying a bit in a flirtatious manner. I nearly gagged. When he was about to say the next sentence, a bad hunch immediately dawned onto me.

"And I'm here to offer you a deal."

I was not wrong. He's a salesman, and I just happened to be the doll he would manipulate next. What could have given him away...? Hm... His smirk, it must be his smirk that gave it away.

I echoed in apprehension. "A deal...?"

The dread worsened when his smirk widened. "Yes," Mark nodded and— I almost gritted my teeth in frustration. Luca. The man in front of me had a name, and it's Luca, not Mark, and despite their similar looks they weren't the same people. I inhaled a deep breath to calm my nerves, catching in a whiff of musky cologne. Must be Luca's, the air around here had been coated in that scent since his arrival.

"You are dead in your previous life." Luca crooned at me, jabbing a figurative knife in my fresh wound with that statement. Mark's usually kind eyes looked wrong with the slimy smile on that face.

Everything in my instincts flashed a red flag for me as he neared. I swallowed my hesitation and commented dryly instead. "There are many better ways to say that, buddy."

"Oh~! You considered me as a person of your liking already." I wanted to stab him and then castrate him slowly in a length of time it took for a snail to move from Antartica to Arctic. Luca supported a thoughtful look on his face. "That's good... that's really good...," he concluded, eyes softening as he looked at me. I almost froze how Mark-like he looked so suddenly before in no matter of time, the harsh glint returned, this time harder than ever. It would take me a longer time to break him right now.

"Now, where were we?" Luca's chuckles were oddly heart-warming, uncharacteristically _nice _for him.

I winced at the sudden intrusion of my high-pitched voice. "Something about me being dead in my previous life. Aren't you a piece of rainbows and sunshine."

"Ah yes, _that_." Somehow, I didn't like the way he said 'that'. "Natalia, I will be blunt about the reason of your premature death." He hummed thoughtfully, a pretty hand draped over his mouth to emphasis the 'thoughtfulness'.

I winced when my mind remembered said reason for said premature death would be an open window. That would be a sad way to go; _Reason for death: An open window_.

"It's because of me."

Fuck, I didn't call it.

"**_What_**?" I repeated, slightly unsure if I heard it right.

Luca stared at me—for a brief moment, his eyes flashed something similar to regret—before repeating, this time firmer. "Your death is an after-effect of what I have done. And for that, I truly apologize."

He didn't look too apologetic if you asked for my opinion.

"And what have you done exactly?" I knew I should be angry or at least surprised by this news. But hey, the damage's been done. So I say just fuck it and roll with it. Besides, this was what I wanted as well. "What are you anyway, some sort of my guardian angel or something?"

I snorted at the thought of Luca's real form suddenly burst out holding a harp and wearing Greek toga, singing Gloria in high-pitched voice. If Luca knew, he wouldn't appreciate my creative thoughts.

"You could say that...," he pondered on other words to describe our relationship. Ooh, relationship. It's actually odd to say it like that but I ran out of vocabularies. "I have known you from your parallel selves, and I've been trying to save you."

...

T-that's so cheesy!

I cringed wryly. "Save me from what exactly, Luca?" At the same time, I also couldn't help but feeling curious. This was like the plot of shoujo manga or something similar. My heart was pumped up at the prospect, feeling the need to clench my fist to make other dramatic gestures.

He gave me an extremely fond smile. Too fond, in fact. "Do you remember the previous memories you suddenly had in your mind?"

"Yeah." I nodded, wincing when I remembered the drilling headache followed after that. "Are they memories from my previous lives?"

Luca shook his head. "Not quite. It's safe to say that those are the memories of your parallel lives, however."

Ah, that explained why they still called me Natalia, not other names.

I blurted out a question I had in my mind. "What is the connection between you being my savior and parallel lives anyway?" That one didn't make sense. "And also, what's with the deal?"

What's with the deal. I grinned; g_et it? What's with the deal—_

Luca blinked. "Ah, yes. The deal."

A heavy weight settled into my shoulders.

Luca waved his hand and nonchalantly remarked. "Why don't you sit down?" And with a snap, I found myself in a different room with him standing across. Stumbling, I almost keeled over from the vertigo—it felt similar to someone compacting your size and made you hurl your insides. His silhouette looked hazier than I remembered, and I thought I even saw a flash of grinning white teeth and—

"Now, now." Luca's hand pushed me down in a gentleness I never imagined he had in him, making me now sitting on a wooden chair. His touch somehow managed to dispel my nausea, as now I sat down without having the need to hurl any ethereal contents off my stomach. "Let's talk about the contract to clear up any misunderstandings."

I found myself nod. Yes, yeah. Si, si, que sera sera.

"Do you remember any memories of your life?" His voice was gentle and soothing, and I really missed Mark right now.

"Yes." I whispered back, unable to bring myself to his eyes. It would make me remember Mark too much. I clenched my fists beside me as I tried to push down the surfacing memories of my family. How were they coping with my death?

Luca's voice was still soothing, although now it held a bit of an edge to it—like he was trying to hurry up. "Natalia, do you still want to live?"

I clenched my fists again, tighter. Anger bubbled on the core of my chest this time, and it's almost nauseating for me to think where this conversation would go.

I slowly shook my head. No. Natalia here, sir. Ready to die than ever. Wouldn't want to trade Heaven for anything at all. And especially not with a salesman from Hell.

"_Oh?_"

I flinched harshly from the sudden cold tone it took. From the edge of my periphery, I saw Luca's face twisted into something cruel—and **_old_**; really,_ really_ **_old_**—before resumed to its smiling mask.

My head shot up from that and like a switch got activated, I began to defend myself. "I've gotten a life, Luca. It was great and even though gets its shitty moments at times, it's still life."

I stared hard at Luca's face. It was chilling and aggravating at the same times, looking at Mark's face with that slimy leer patched on his lips. He returned my stare, many times colder. And I knew in instant that it would be a hundred years earlier for me to face him like this.

I challenged him, and I didn't even know what he was. For all that could happen, he could be an angel or a demon—but from the contract talk my thoughts leaned more towards the demon theory. That's it, I must be suicidal. Or a nutjob. Or both. Yeah, both sounded good.

We stared for what felt like a goddamn eternity, and within each seconds I felt my life force was shortened for a year by that chilling, evil laser-eyes. Dad's deathglare had nothing on this- this man. I didn't even know if I could call him a man.

Luca's eyes finally softened.

"Natalia...," he began softly, as if he was talking to a frightened and wounded animal. "Can you really call your past life as truly living?"

My feet moved backwards as he took a step forward. Fuck. Luca looked at me with a strangely sympathetic expression. Before I realize it, he was already in front of me while taking my hand into his. The sudden contact jolted me into my saner conscious, and I felt heat was crawling on both of my cheeks.

"Natalia, you spent at least half of your previous life connected to a machine while the other half was used for chemotherapy sessions and operations." He shook my hand gently while his eyes were still latching on mine. "The only times you've felt really happy was when the cancer was gone and when you finally broke out from the hospital to teach kindergarten."

How did he know...?

I gaped, before closing my mouth shut when I realized that it would look foolish on my face. My gaze were cast down as I found it unbearable to meet his eyes. Fuck. I should be feeling extremely violated from personal information leaking or stuff like that but fuuuck. It's like Mark all over again, with his concerned attitude making me turn into goo...

Wait, how could I know he's not just acting right now?

I snapped my head back to face him in defiance. How could I let my guard down just like that? Fuck, his plan with using Mark's body worked! Fuck, he's fucking dangerous and I almost let my guard down around him! Fuck! Fuck. He's fucking good, I had got to give him that.

"You know what," I said, watching as his eyes went almost wide with my sudden exclamation. "You," I jabbed a finger to his chest, glaring. "Can stick your offer to where sun doesn't shine, Luca."

I lowered down my hand nervously as I bit my lip. Okay, that wasn't a really great idea. Fuck. What was I thinking. I just talked back to something that knew probably anything about me and something about parallel lives. And he's dangerous, and probably extremely powerful.

My brain cells must had been fried from the chemo sessions, hence my stupid attitudes. There's no other explanation. That must be it.

Luca went silent immediately, and although my instincts didn't scream to run at me I still couldn't help but to feel extremely cautious to proceed. For all that could happen, he could be masking his form as The Dark Lord Satan and he was actually furious with me.

So, imagine my surprise when I heard a chuckle from him. I took a double look and promptly widened my eyes when I realized that yes, it came from him. And yes, the laughter didn't subside even a bit.

Between chuckles, Luca remarked at me, while still pulling off that closed-eyed laugh handsomely. "I forgot that you still do that at times."

I scowled, feeling the heat intensified tenfold on my cheeks. "Do what?"

Luca let out another set of chuckles before answering me. "Being... you." _What the fuck did that even mean._ He smiled at me. "I have to say that it's indeed refreshing. I haven't been the butt of your anger since a long time." His eyes turned glazed as he reminisced in memories about him and my parallel selves, before turning impish again.

I gulped. That didn't look good.

"So, I guess the events were different in parallel worlds?" I inquired in curiosity. Sorry, but I was itching to find out about those parallel worlds. It was interesting that many people could be different in many ways while still having the same identity. And from the way Luca said about being the butt of my anger, he sounded like I was dead and he couldn't save me. Huh.

Luca nodded, as I had thought. "Yes." He gestured at my body. "You have different circumstances, as well as your parallels. But you still have the same danger lurking for you, I am afraid."

I narrowed my eyes. "How could I know you're not one of them?"

Luca shook his head, almost tiredly. A pang of guilt appeared in my chest from the sight. "I can't prove you anything." His voice was tired too. "But understand that I'm trying to help you, Natalia. And we don't have much time."

What did he mean by that? Fuck, there were so many questions running inside my head. But so little time...

"I can give you another life." That brought my attention. Luca was still staring intently at me, as he spoke out in a resolved firmness. "Just nearby us, there is a parallel world where someone is dying. His soul doesn't want to leave just yet because he still needs to take care of his mother."

As Luca's words began to plant themselves in my mind, I connected the dots. "You want me to replace him." I whispered, almost afraid to be wrong. This— this was wrong. I would be taking someone's life from him. I would be taking his world. I would be taking everything from him. "What's wrong with Heaven, Luca?" Why were _you_ doing this?

Luca went quiet, but not for long as his next words left me chilling to the very core. "Something was trying to steal your soul. I'm trying to save you."

What. What? Why the fuck someone would try to steal my soul?!

My expression twisted into a grimace as I found myself pondering over Luca's statement. But, if he's trying to get me away from heaven, then—

"Luca."

"Yes?" He looked up to me, tilting his head to side.

I kept my grimace. "Where are we?"

Luca took on my question with a small smile. A small, weak smile. He's slowly dropping his mask. "We're in Void, Natalia. A place between Perdition and Heaven, which is a separate part of Purgatory."

Void. My mind repeated that name. It was like the white part of egg on my tongue. Aqueous. It reminded me of Limbo, where in Christian belief was the place they placed the children who died before birth, also according to dictionary: a state of uncertainty for a decision to be made, also a state of oblivion. Void.

"Void." I echoed, almost whispering.

Luca nodded encouragingly. "It put me in a difficult situation, as I had to get your soul as quickly as possible before they do. But we are here now, in Void."

I had learned not to question so many things for now, so I pushed back my thoughts to the back of my mind.

Another life, eh? A chance to start over, and while I still couldn't my head over the fact probably I just signed a contract to gift-wrap and serve my head on a silver plate, a part of me encouraged me to shake hands on the deal. I could deal with the effects later. Fuck this. Fuck everything. Let's take on the gamble with the salesman of Hell.

I licked my dry lips. "Okay."

Luca blinked, before his mind got over the fact that I just agreed. "Oh, good! Just in time as well!" He rolled over his shirts' sleeve, looking eager to connect my arm within his.

"Uhm, I'm not signing anything that involves my soul to be handed over you, right?"

He shook his head. "Nope!" Ah, he's now really chirpy. "In exchange for new life, you're only required to make The Bond with me, so I can check your conditions in that world from time to time." He flashed me a toothy smile.

I hesitated. Would this work? Would this really work? And with that happy question drumming in my head, I offered my hand to Luca.

He suddenly grabbed my right hand. I gasped when a burning sensation traveled from my hand to my whole body from the contact. It left me shuddering, and I almost leaned on Luca's chest but I managed to stop myself in time.

Glad I had managed to do that in time. The embarrassment that would surely follow afterwards if that did happen wouldn't worth it.

"It is done." His hand released the grip as I was still panting softly from the surge of heat. I looked over to my hand to examine anything burnt, but to my surprise there was none. Then, my eyes caught black ink was slowly appearing on my wrist.

What the fuck.

My eyes almost bulged as I examined my hand. From where the tip of Luca's forefinger touched the inside of my wrist, a star slowly formed with the black ink, continuing to surround my wrist with ice crystal-like pattern—resembling a bracelet. Its design was intricately beautiful, although I was not a big fan of jewelries nor aesthetic things.

I looked at him questioningly.

Luca smiled. "People always thought I burn. It's actually quite the opposite, Natalia."

"That's not what I mean but fuck, now you got me curious." I told him with a wry grin, pressing on my wrist to trace the patterns. I sucked in a sharp breath. There's no pulse. My grin subsided as I released my hand to look at Luca. I was dead, and that's a fact I needed to drill inside my head.

Dead, not alive.

Luca's gaze bore on my wrist as he drawled on the reply, still with that smooth Scottish accent. "And that's another story for another time, Natalia." Then, he turned to meet my stare. "I'll explain the other things later on, but right now we need to move fast."

Before I could retort, he snapped a finger, and everything promptly drained into the darkness.

"Wait!" I called out to him in panic, feeling my own body fading away. "What's happening to me?!" Oh, that's hysteria over there.

"That's okay." I heard his voice somewhere in the darkness, but I couldn't grasp where exactly. Fuck. Fuck! FUCK THIS WAS LIKE MY DEATH! HOW DID HE MANAGE TO SOUND SO FUCKING CALM. FUCK. I wheezed as panic filled my lungs. "You'll be alright, dear. You know this particular world from your past life, after all. You'll do just perfectly fine, Natalia."

FUCK HIM FOR MANAGING TO SOUND SO CONDESCENDING LIKE THAT.

"HOW'S THAT SUPPOSED TO CALM ME DOWN?!" I hollered after him in hysterics as dark spots filled my peripheries. Too reminiscent of death. There's no reply. "LUCA, YOU FUCKER! YOU BETTER REPLY TO ME THIS INSTANT!"

Still no reply. I gritted my teeth in anger, hearing a snarly laugh somewhere in the darkness wheezed by me. Salesman of Hell or not, he's going to die by my hands. I was about to shout again, if it wasn't for another voice behind me.

"Hello?"

FUCK!

I jumped from the scare it gave me, whirling around to meet the offender as I almost stumbled in the process. With a hand on my hip and a huge frown adorning my face, I was so more than ready to give the little shit a piece of my mind.

My mind, which froze at the same time my eyes laid upon the little boy in front of me.

He couldn't be more than 5 years old. He had all the gorgeous features on his face, and would be a definite eye-candy when he grew up. His lanky hands and more toned legs indicated that he probably played soccer in his free times. With the tagging innocent grin on his face, the guilt weighing on my chest was almost suffocating.

My eyes turned a bit blurry from the threat of oncoming tears. This must be the soul I would be taking his position for. This would be the life I reaped. This would be the life I stole.

He couldn't be more than 5 years old. He couldn't _possibly_ be more than 5 years old. How did he manage to lose his life in the first place? 5-year-old kids were supposed to play around in playgrounds, not _dead_.

Not dead.

I forced a shaky smile on my face after swallowing the lumping mess in my throat. "Hi there."

His grin widened a touch and my chest weighed more from another big boulder of guilt.

"My name is Akimori Yasuhiro! What's yours?"

Akimori Yasuhiro. Japanese? Japanese were supposed to say their last name first before their first name, right?

So... Yasu, then.

"I'm Natalia. Although you can call me Nate." The smile on my face subsided a bit when I tested his name. "Yasu-kun, isn't it?"

"Yep!" He was so cheerful, and chirpy, and _innocent_. His scrunched eyebrows when he tried my name made me either want to laugh or cry. "Na-taru-ya—san...?"

I settled for the former option, laughing. Instinctively my hand reached to smooth the creases on his forehead. When I realized what I was about to do, my movement stopped deadtrack as my hand stiffened. My blank stare was greeted with a pair of confused hazel-ish golden eyes.

I had always liked brown and earthy colors. Earthy colors reminded me of home—something from a dream within a dream.

The only thing I could be thinking right now was that those beautiful eyes would never gain back their innocent gaze if I took over his body.

"Nataruya-san?" Stumbling over my name, like what a 5-year-old would had done.

I lowered my hand to my side, setting a huge grin on my face as my legs hopped into a crouch before him. Yasu was tilting his head to side and it was so adorable! I almost gushed him in coos before I managed to rein in my fondness towards children. "Yeah, Yasu-kun? Oh, and by the way, you _really_ can just call me Nate."

"Okay, Neto-san." He beamed at me, and the urge to squeeze him was getting harder to resist. "Are you going to take care of Kaa-chan?"

Kaa-chan? My Japanese was a bit rusty but I was pretty sure it meant Mother.

At first I couldn't see it, but then I saw his form was fading away.

I smiled. "Yeah. I'm going to keep your Kaa-chan healthy and happy." And then I pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just like what you did, Yasu-kun!"

His giggles reminded me with bell's tinkling. "Yeah! I keep Kaa-chan healthy and happy!" He beamed at me again, this time brighter. Then, he frowned as his gaze was directed to somewhere beyond my reach. "Kaa-chan told me not to play near the lake. But I didn't listen."

His golden eyes bore into mine again. "I should have listened, right?"

Yasu was young, and he was supposed to be living healthily for the next 60 years or more. A part of me bristled in fury at the thought of such irresposible mother not taking really good care on her son. A single glance towards his eyes, and then I cooled down—huh. He had this effect on people, likely. Calming.

I smiled, and ruffled his hair. "You betcha, kiddo." At his down expression, I slapped his back playfully and forced a laugh. "But that's okay. You've been really, really good. Even when you think you're not. I bet you're the best kid in the bunch, doncha?"

Yasu's smile turned contemplative. "Maybe. I don't really know." He shrugged. "Teachers tell Kaa-chan I'm 'gifted'." He bit his lips thoughtfully, earning an almost-squeal from me as I immediately shoved the back of my hand to my mouth, stopping it just at the edge of my lips. "Is... is that good?" His eyes turned a bit watery. "I'm... I'm really not bad, right?"

I ruffled his hair again with a grin. "That means you're amazing, Yasu-kun!" At his hesitant gaze, I immediately added. "Gifted means you're special. You're so good, that no other kids are as good as you. Do you get it?"

He nodded.

"Now," I almost bit my lips. "You're so amazing, Yasu-kun. You're incredibly amazing, that the angels want you to join them already." A lie, undignified but I thought that he might need this push. "Are you okay with that?"

"Angels?" His eyes were wide in curiosity, looking like two pools of honey-colored lacquer at this moment. "They want me to join them?" He whispered in awe.

I hesitated.

His eyes were still beautifully wide and curious, and _innocent_.

"Yes." I breathed the lie through my teeth. "So, I'm going to take care of your mother. Okay? You're needed, buddy. But you can't stay here."

"I can't see Kaa-chan again...?"

My smile probably looked stiff and incredibly forced. But my company was a 5-year-old child who couldn't probably detect any lies from me. A 5-year-old.

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"You can still see her, of course."

Probably in the next 40 years or so.

He smiled. "Then that's good for me."

"Great!" My chirps were as fake as Jay's Prada purse. But right now, my gut feeling coerced me to get him to say 'yes'. A simple yes. I didn't know the reason why, but I should get him to say yes to me. "Is that a yes, Yasu?"

Say yes. My mind jabbed with the thought again as my heartbeat pounded in my ears. Say yes.

The hesitation felt like a million years had passed before he finally replied:

"Yes."

Then everything went black.

* * *

><p>"...su... Yasu...!"<p>

There was a soft, female voice. It sounded fragile and had a nasal tone to it like she had been crying for days. Weeks, even. Why was she crying?

"Yasu! Yasu!"

Pain on somewhere around my face. The cracking kind of pain—and it a bit stung as well. Was she slapping me? God, what did I even do to this woman?

"YASU!"

My eyes opened with a snap. A jolt ran throughout my body—convulsing, pulsing, waking me up from a deep, deep slumber. I winced as yellow light entered my vision before I blinked them away to stare at a white ceiling—and the face of a woman beside me.

"Oh my god... Oh my GOD! Yasu, Yasu!" She called out to me—_?_—in a frail voice.

Wait, my name's not Yasu. It's—

...

I...

I couldn't remember my own name.

"Thank goodness you're okay!"

Her arms enveloped me into a tight hug. It was unfamiliar, but warm. Her hug was warm, and her scent reminded me of home. Her tears wetted my shoulders but I found it okay—because that meant she must had loved me dearly.

I lifted my arms with all the strength I could muster before resting them around this woman.

"It's a miracle." Another voice.

From the edge of my vision, I glanced at an elderly-looking woman who coiled her stethoscope around her neck. She was clad in a typical doctor lab outfit, with all the white almost blending with the walls and ceilings. She held up her pose regally.

Add that to her greying hair which was tied back into a tight bun, and she should be an admired woman.

I read the name-tag on her clothes—

Wait. That's Japanese. I couldn't read Japanese.

... Right?

Suddenly the words switched places and transformed into Latin alphabet and now I knew that I was facing one Kurokawa Chiyo-sensei.

The fuck...?

"Thank you so much, Kurokawa-sensei!"

Wait, were those Japanese that's blabbering out from her mouth?

"Yasu! What are you going to say to Kurokawa-sensei?"

"Oh, um, uh." I might be turning crazy but I was _pretty_ sure that my voice didn't sound like a pre-pubescent boy like _this_. "Thanks for your kindness, sensei!"

Was I spewing Japanese as well?

Oh fuck.

"Now, Yasu. Do you remember anything before all of this?" Kurokawa-sensei's smooth voice snapped me out of my trance.

Memories raced across my brain—soccer, lake, a crackling like of a thunder as the ground fell beneath me, and water clutching around my lungs.

My voice sounded too quiet in the white room.

"I was playing soccer." I said slowly, unsure of the gain from this previous memories. It felt too alien for me. "I was playing soccer when the ball got out of control, and it fell on the lake." Slowly as well, my eyes met Kurokawa-sensei's unreadable eyes. "Despite Mama's warning, I walked on the surface of the lake to get the ball. It cracked, and I fell."

Her eyes were still unreadable when I finished, but her next words indicated her surprise at my memories. "I didn't expect anyone to remember that kind of thing after this experience." A smile widens on her lips. "You are a brave kid, Yasuhiro." She ruffled my hair.

Again with Yasu. My name was—

...

I still couldn't remember.

"Of course." The woman beside me who wasn't Kurokawa-sensei smiled in tears, before ruffling my hair fondly as well. "He is his father's son after all!"

Her golden eyes looked like lacquer at this moment, shining with pride at me. I succumbed to the warmth of her hug again. And this time, Kurokawa-sensei's eyes managed to soften to a degree.

"Of course. Masahiro was an incredibly brave man, Kotone. But, Yasu," she was back to her stern attitude as she scolded me. "Listen to your mother's words next time, okay? She mustn't have said that without a reason."

I nodded numbly. "Yes, sensei."

That person who was beside me the whole time... she's my mother? No, that mustn't be it. My mother was a passionate woman who died when—

Eh?

Blank again?

Like something was blocking my mind from my memories.

But who did this? Moreover... why?

"I'm checking you for a concussion, okay, dear?" I only registered Kurokawa-sensei's voice for a moment before a blinding light shone into my eyes. Her fingers skillfully stretched the skin around my eyes, her eyes stared calculatingly into mine before the light died with an audible click. She tucked back the flashlight into her pockets. "There. No concussion. You're going to be discharged at most 3 days from now." She smiled at me again, patting my head before turning to my mother...?

Flashes of kind smiles akin to hers and laughter appeared in my head.

My mother: Akimore Kotone, formerly Hidemoto Kotone.

I had a mother.

"Yes, thank you again, Kurokawa-sensei." My mother beamed to the doctor, before turning to me—ignoring the called out "you're welcome" and the soundless way Kurokawa-sensei exited my room. Her tightened hug almost choked my aching body, and I immediately gasped for air.

AIR I NEED AIR. ASAP. EITHER THIS WOMAN HAD THE STRENGTH OF A HULK, OR I WAS JUST WEAK.

I settled for the latter option, as her body engulfed my tiny one.

Eh?

TINY?

I stared cross-eyed at my hands in front of me. A bit lanky. Tiny. Small. Weak.

I immediately tried to estimate the size of my legs.

They were the length of mother's thighs.

Something blocked my airway, and I immediately hyperventilated. I had been shrunk. SHRUNK!

Tears almost threatened to come in my eyes. First, something robbed me from my identity. I woke up here with no recollection whatsoever about my name, my age, and too many other things. Second, they put me in the shoes of someone else who had a life. They put me into someone's life and expected me to just roll on with it.

Who was I?

"Yasu?"

A pair of golden eyes stared at me in worry.

"Mom." I mumbled. Then louder. "Help."

In instant she had my head buried on her shoulder, stroking me back kindly—as kind as someone I didn't know somewhere back then.

"It's okay, dear. It's okay." Another stroke. Ugh, my head felt like it weighed a ton. "Mama's got you."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

*sweats profusely* I didn't promise any quick updates, did I? So I'll just say this so that we don't get into any misunderstanding, 'kay? I only promise updates if a chapter popped into my head.

Apologies for the vulgar curses. My OC has no eloquent mouth.

And this is a shoutout for all who have supported this story until here. You guys rock! I hope I don't make anything confusing, but if I did then please mention it in the reviews!

I'm not going to go near any computer anymore. *shudders* This is an incredibly tiring experience.


	3. Wind of Change

**Despite Your Reasons**

**Disclaimer:** Katekyo Hitman Reborn belongs to Amano Akira-sensei. I only own my character, that's all.

**Warnings:** AU. Several genderbends. Male!OC; biologically. OC's POV. Contains violence and mild sexual themes in later chapters. Several cussing and unorthodox practices. Atheistic POV.

**Summaries:** Exchanging souls with a supposedly dead boy did not bode well for an adult female like her. Especially since she finds out that the universe she's been dumped in is actually made of dying wills, Flames, assassins, and the mafia. Well, it's better to move on from that to something else; like, why is Tsuna a girl?

**Listening to:** Wind of Change—Scorpion.

* * *

><p><em>"something is removing your clothing, one item of apparel after another, sitting you down before the mirror and making you ask "whose body is this I'm wearing?"<em>

_something is silently writing your life story, weighing the date of your birth, seeking the cause of your death—_

_something is silently changing into you."_

_**—Sapardi Djoko Damono, "Metamorphosis"**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3:<strong> Wind of Change

"Yasu-kun~"

I jerked to a start when I realized that it's me she's calling. Well, sorry for not remembering that this body belonged to your son.

My small fingers nimbly made a dog-ear on the page of the book I was putting my heart into—Yanagita Kunio's The Tales of Toono. A sigh almost escaped my lips when I saw her expectant eyes signaling me to put down the book and eat my breakfast. Just at the good part, too...

Obediently, I put it down and started eating.

Her chirpy tone irked me. "Good boy~"

It's like I was a puppy. For God's sake, I might be a five-year-old kid with a passion for soccer, but I was a human. A godforsaken human being!

It had been around two days since the doctors had discharged me from the hospital. And this Kotone woman... she was quite adamant on keeping me inside the house ever since I was released. Well, not really. On Monday I could go back to school—the subject which I would let it drown in my mind for a while before I gave it the permission to bubble into the surface again.

Just, just let me stay a moment in the denial.

Now, back to the mother business.

A part of me longed for a mother. She was incredibly nice and caring, and despite my dislike to her she made a wonderful mother. I... I really— It was probably incredibly selfish for me to say this but...

Even before my discharge, since I woke up in that hospital I had always felt this... this gaping hole in my chest. I couldn't find enough words to describe it, but it felt as if someone took something from me, as if I was missing something important right here. And it's eating me out from the inside; every minute, hour, day.

The thing was that she's filling this gap in my chest with her showers of love. I knew it was wrong to use her like this—as a replacement to fill this- this metaphorical black hole. But it's lonely out here, with her or not. There was a suffocating silence every time she had to get up from her seat and go to work.

And it was all so foreign—alien even, to me. The whole surrounding was alien. The woman who called me her son was alien. Even my memories were impeccably alien to me.

_Who was I?_

Blank. Like most pieces of my slate mind had been chopped clean.

And all of the holes had been replaced with this Yasu kiddo's memories.

For example, there was this one time I (it's actually Yasu) accidentally kicked the ball towards the window and shattered glasses immediately rained on the tiles. Then there's this black-haired kid with navy-blue eyes—Yoshino—whom I (or Yasu...?) mistook for a girl in the first day of school. His punch knocked me (or Yasu?) out for one good hour.

_Who was I?_

Not Akimori Yasuhiro.

There were hundreds of memories clashing in my skull, trying to accept them yet break them. It wasn't as bad as the first day—a particular memory about the sickening crack from the ground as it fell beneath me rewinded as a cacophony into my eardrums and my vision especially when I closed my eyes, like a piece of a damaged film stuck between the two minutes and four mark.

I refused any visitors that day.

Speaking of visitors, I thought it's quite odd on how mother was my only visitor when I got into the accident. Yasu was supposed to be quite popular—if the memories implanted in my head were any indications. Oh, there was also a middle-aged man with tanned skin and an awfully cheerful demeanor. He looked familiar—but it was a probable hallucination anyway.

Maybe Yasu kept his distance with everyone.

There was an actual probability of that. One could be nice and friendly and all, but faded into the background. Like a wallflower—unnoticed but still there.

Or it's Kotone's fault.

I still couldn't bring myself to call her 'Mom'. Mother was excusable. But 'Mom'...?

Something in my mind said I already reserved that place for someone else.

Her surprise when I called her 'Okaa-sama' was to be called for. Yasu probably called her with something like 'Kaa-chan', which was more plausible for a 5-year-old with no skilled tongue. Wait, that sounded wrong. Articulate. Yes, the word I was looking for was articulate. 'Kaa-chan' was a phrase for less articulate 5-year-old boys.

Unfortunately, I was an adult in this boy's body. He should thank me for making him turn into a prodigy, later on. Not that I was planning to meet him any soon. His soul must had arrived already in afterlife.

Huh.

"Yasu-kun, could you wash the dishes on the sink?" Kotone—no, mother (I should play a child to her for now)—called out to me with her fruity voice. Her oval face glowed in happiness, illuminated by our house's dimly-lit light. In the illumination, her golden eyes flashed with sun-yellow for some moments. I considered her beautiful—she would easily have any guys wrapped around her little finger. "I'm going to check on the door, okay?"

Huh?

"Why?" A frown appeared on my face as I made my way to the kitchen. It was small; homely, but small, all with the DOP tiles arranged in a monochrome outlook. I put the stacked plates on the sink, noting that my fingers didn't exactly tremble from the force and instead seemed used to be at this situation a lot. Athletic and flexible. Nice.

"Someone's at the door, honey." I could hear her kind answer fade a bit as she also made her way to our door. "The bell was rung earlier. Didn't you hear it? Hm, maybe we should check you again to Kurokawa-sensei."

Oh. Apparently, I dwelled too much in my musings.

I continued on both my chores and thoughts.

So. My body. Akimori Yasuhiro; a boy who lived with his mother alone. Father: Akimori Masahiro, died 5 years ago in a horrific accident which took off 3 more lives besides him. Yasu never really knew his father, only heard him from stories and saw him from the pictures so there were no strings attached.

When his father died, there was a fund from the government which barely covered the expenses of a young mother and a newly-born baby. Hence why Kotone took odd jobs and worked on multiple shifts at a sushi restaurant nearby.

Yasu never really thought about the name of said restaurant. What a typical oblivious child.

Wait, I shouldn't get mad at him. He was still a young kid by the time he died. He even remembered about Kotone's explanation about their family's condition. And he even tried to do the best he could not to burden his mother...

Somehow, Yasu's image became more angelic than what my usual farfetched imagination's produced. Was this a martyr thing? Or was I dumped into a universe where everyone didn't seem to think much about their wellbeing and instead care for the others?

Well, I would definitely continue his legacy in the end.

But I was—definitely—not Akimori Yasuhiro. One way or another, I'd retrieve my original identity!

"Yasu! We have a visitor!"

Oh.

Why must she interrupted me again in my inner monologue?

Again, I had the feeling I had done this (inner monologuing stuff) sometime in my previous life. Did I have a lot of free time? I must had, considering that inner monologue was considered to be something quite difficult if you didn't want to think about the crazy that laid in within.

"Coming!" I called out to her, wiping my lanky hands on the dirtied cloth near the sink. I made a mental note to change it later on, before proceeding to go the living room.

Who's the visitor anyway? A relative, perhaps.

"Yes, okaa-sama?" I peeked my head around to stare at her smiling face, and a raven-haired man with golden, fox-eyes across her seat on the worn couch. My feet shuffled unsurely as how to greet him. "Oh."

Uncle Kurama.

A flash of memory entered my mind. My tense body immediately relaxed—this man had brought life and joy to this little household. I could show him some respect.

"Kurama-jiisan!" I called out to him, grinning. He returned the grin with spread arms, and while I internally wailed, I let my body did the response and dug into his embrace. His arms were strong and rather well-developed, his body gave off warmth to me. Being in his embrace felt like a protection—and was that musk that I smell?

Somehow it felt familiar...

"Heya, Yasu!" A ruffle.

I looked up to see his eyes twinkling at mine. Were all Hidemotos good-looking? Because mother and Uncle Kurama certainly were two hella attractive guys.

His hand felt chilly on the crown of my head, contrasting to the body heat he exuded. I frowned.

(A blurry figure.

A tired smile.

"People always thought I burn. It's actually quite the opposite, Nat—")

I tensed from the sudden memory permeating my mind. It wasn't Yasu's, for sure. Unlike the other memories, this one felt more familiar to me and I had a tingling sense of déjà vu. A faint recognition dawned in my chest, along with a barely held excitement.

That would be something from my previous identity.

Nat, though?

My previous name...?

"Glad to see you alright, Yasu." He removed his hand from my head—along with the biting chill. I looked up to him questioningly and he returned with a slight smile on his thin lips. "I panicked when I saw you got swallowed up by the water. Not breathing when I pulled you out, clutching that damned ball like your life depended on it."

Mother softly chided him. "Don't curse in front of my kid, Kurama."

His forced chuckle wasn't the thing that made me froze.

Because.

He was not there.

He was not there in Yasu's memories. Yasu was alone when he was about to die. Yasu was definitely not with this Kurama guy. And if he was there, then Yasu would definitely remember.

My mind flashed a red alert as the hold around me tightened just a bit.

Those golden eyes didn't look so warm anymore all of the sudden.

"Well excuse me for a bit, I'm gonna make some tea." Mother! My head whipped back to her as I widened my eyes to emphasize the sheer importance of this situation. She's not leaving here with this... this creep!

"No problem, Kotone." His voice drawled out lazily above my head. I gesticulated in panic to that statement.

Unfortunately, Kotone didn't realize my panicked gesture and just skipped to the kitchen quite merrily.

I stared at her leave feeling utter betrayal coiling in my guts. She left! Leaving me with someone in the body of my uncle! Couldn't she sense something wrong in this picture? Or at least something wrong from this guy?

The hands around me released their clutch and I immediately wriggled myself out. Sheer, unadulterated fear immediately coursed through my body as I heaved my body on the couch across him, crossing the wooden table. It didn't matter where as long as he was far, far away from me.

My body quivered in fear.

He raised an eyebrow, looking more amused than offended at my (admittedly) dramatic action.

Somehow it reminded me of something familiar.

"So," he began, lazily spreading his arms on the couch and while still looked elegant at doing it—eyeing me with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. "You don't remember."

_Remember what?_

The thought didn't leave my mind but he already chuckled. "I am not an enemy, Nate." His eyes slid to find mine. "My real name is Luca."

Nate.

Luca.

...

Oh.

Fuzzy memories were permeating my brains, mind, cells—everything; one by one. There were still many holes in the majority of them, but now at least I could remember my previous identity.

_Who was I?_

Natalia "Nate" Collins, age 21 when I went down from a harsh pneumonia which was encouraged by APL. I had a sister and a brother. My mom died when she gave birth to my sister. My father didn't. My sister loathed me to the core. My brother didn't.

I still hadn't remembered their names, but that's okay. I would take what I could take.

A warm, fuzzy feeling rested on my chest at my newfound memories.

So, I had a family. It didn't matter that my sister and I had a bitter history between us, but I still had a family. I had people who actually supported me and would accept me.

It was amazingly wonderful, really. I was glad about it. My eyes teared up at the knowledge, as I held the memories closely to my head—unwilling to let them go. Their figures were blurry but I could recognize red and blond hairs like a picture of sunset and fire.

Then, out came the memories about Salesman of Hell.

"You!" I exclaimed in apprehension, pointing at Kurama/Luca. "The last time I saw you, you're a hot blond and had these pretty, green eyes!"

He was still eyeing me in amusement. "I was borrowing a form, Nate. If you remember that part of memory, of course."

I actually didn't; not like I'd tell him anyway...

I huffed, crossing my arms in acquiescence. For the time being at least, since he didn't look too harmful. "So. Is Kurama a figment of imagination or someone real?"

"Sharp as always." He sighed. "You're taking all of these too well, by the Lord's name." Not taking any time to mull over his answer, as if he already prepared for the inquiry, he added. "To answer your question, this body is possessed by me for the time being since it would raise suspicions for several omnipotent beings if I was to create an illusion about," he paused, shuddering a bit in slight disgust. "... a human."

I narrowed my eyes at that but decided not to question about it further. "He's being possessed by you, then? How?"

"A simple consent." He smiled charmingly at me. "Of course it is essential not to force him, and simply lead him to say 'yes' to the terms and conditions. Don't you agree, Nate?"

What the fuck did all of that mean?

And also, Nate. It was incredibly confusing not to get called by 'Yasu' any longer. I bit my lips before slowly glaring at him. We had an intimate staring session before Kotone interrupted us with her cheerful voice.

"Tea is ready." Kotone called out, carrying a tray filled with a not-china pot and cups. She carefully put them down on the table, like she didn't want to break them. Both Luca and I took a cup, warming our hands with the heat—well, at least I was warming my hands.

Luca's eyes thawed until they became warmer—more like someone to their little sibling. More like Kurama to Kotone. "You know," he interjected with a frown on his face. "I could replace that set with a better one, Koto-chan."

Unlike how I expected her to reply—with a simple grin and a cheerful sing-song voice, instead she furrowed her eyebrows. The act was simple, yet it greatly affected me as cup felt less warm suddenly in my hold. Kurama didn't hesitate to return her gaze and I froze in my seat, feeling so small between both adults. Their presences made the room felt... somehow smaller—as if the two of them ate the spaces they occupied with their bodies.

I felt like I had entered the room when my parents had an argument. Like I didn't belong here, like I had been in the wrong room with my small body.

Kotone laced her fingers together, straightened her back and simply stated icily. "As I recall, I wasn't asking for your consideration into my family matters." She paused, taking in the look in Luca's face to continue. "You've never dabbled in our problems before. You don't need to start now."

There was a moment of silence after she said that. I watched Luca's face carefully, feeling so much respect to mother right now for unrelenting to the salesman of Hell. And fucking scared for her as well, because that was the freaking salesman of Hell she's been speaking to!

After a while in tense situation (for me, at least), he raised his hands in surrender. "You got me there, Kotone." He smiled in melancholy. "Sorry, I certainly didn't mean to offend you in any way. Just...," he eyed me carefully. "Since Masahiro's gone already and the fund stopped...," he trailed off, threading on the lines of his words.

Mother faltered—and so did I—when she noticed the implications. She went quiet for a moment. "I see." Then, followed with, "I'm sorry. I know you've been taking care of us, and you don't mean any harm. But I can take care of my son perfectly fine, Kurama."

"Yeah, no doubt of it." My demonic uncle grinned wryly. "Otherwise, teachers won't be singing praises to our dear Yasu, am I right kiddo?" His grin turned brighter as he looked at me.

I blinked from the sudden attention—as Kotone also turned to me with adoring eyes as well. "Uh. Well. Uh." Feeling a bit abashed, I averted my eyes with slightly flushed cheeks. "I guess, um, yeah."

"Aw," Kotone ruffled my head compassionately. I instinctually leaned closer to the gentle touch, as I also looked up at her. My breath hitched when I recognized the adoration and love in her twinkling eyes. "No need to be shy, Yasu-kun. Mama knew you're always so nice to the kids." She cooed at me, making my cheeks reddened further.

Somewhere in my mind, something was screaming that I didn't deserve all these affections.

I never deserved those kind of affections.

My head shook as I reprimanded myself to stop.

I threw a glare at Luca's direction. His shark-like grin widened a touch as he greeted my glare coolly.

Then, he turned to Mother. "Anyways, I'm missing a point about my arrival here." His voice was drawled out carefully, as he fished out an envelope from his leather briefcase. "This is the information about the stands in Kokuyo Land."

My blood turned cold hearing the sentence. My body heated up before freezing again in drastic. I droned out the rest of the conversation as my mind frantically tried to recall memories about the aforementioned place.

Kokuyo Land.

There was just something besides the knowledge that it's the amusement park that Kotone took a job on, something I could safely say as another déjà vu. I remembered the place like an echo from my past—

Oh my god.

Oh. My. God.

I turned to Luca for assurance and found almost none as he realized I had caught on and just winked at me before resumed conversing with Kotone. My jaws clenched in an almost panicked realization.

Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

I was in the universe of Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

And somehow, unlike my personal memories, Katekyo Hitman Reborn flashed like a bright polaroid in my mind.

Oh my god.

My fingers clenched on the couch's worn-out leather surface. My heart were beating so hard it felt like it was going to leap out of my chest. A spot of coldness roamed in my ribs, constricting my breathing into hyperventilation.

I was in the freaking world of Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

"Yasu?"

I needed to calm the fuck down.

Okay, that's not logical. I would be delusional from thinking that I was reborn—or sort of like that—into KHR just because I heard about Kokuyo Land. Kokuyo was a pretty common Japanese name anyways, so that must be something of a coincidence.

Yeah, a coincidence. Mere coincidence. That must be it.

I took a deep breath, letting my contracting throat loosen up a bit for a while. "Yeah, Okaa-sama?"

I looked up to her concerned face.

"Are you okay?"

I smiled.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for asking."

She didn't seem convinced but I only smiled wider. In the end, Kotone gave me a reluctant smile before softly raking my hair. "You can always go upstairs if you're tired, dear."

I nodded numbly, scooting a bit closer to hug Mother's body before trotting to Luca. For him, I cooked up a mean glare before burying myself in his body, mumbling. "What world did you get me into, Luca? What's the meaning of all of this?"

He merely replied with a smirk before releasing his hold around my body. I sighed as I waved him and Mother away before going back to my room.

He's not going to answer anything about my questions, was he?

* * *

><p>The first thing I did after going upstairs: search Yasu's entire room for a blank notebook.<p>

It didn't take too much time, honestly, for its small size like the other rooms in Yasu's also not-so-spacious house. The room was neatly arranged for a 5-year-old boy; adorned with simple furnitures, a studying desk, and a bed. White walls plainly stood out to the eye, not covered with posters or wallpapers or whatever, and a dirtied soccer ball on a corner of the room—the cause of my existence.

I found the blank book in the end. It's a brown spiral notebook with crisp, lined papers. The surface was big compared to my hands, but I was satisfied.

I searched for a pen and after contemplating a while, began my entry in English.

_I'm not Akimori Yasuhiro._

_My name is Natalia "Nate" Collins. I am 21 years old. I was diagnosed with APL (acute promyelocytic leukemia) when I was ten. I died from pneumonia. I get a second chance to live as Akimori Yasuhiro._

Starting with the basics: name, age, and the stuff like that; to my deal and this current life. I wrote everything I knew and remembered about my past life into that journal. Admittedly, my handwritings didn't convey well about the entire ordeal unlike what a writer would. And it looked more like a chicken scrawl of a 5-year-old than adult handwriting.

Okay, mental note: improve my writing skills.

And admittedly as well, I couldn't write more than around 5 minutes before my scrawls turned into grass code from the stiff muscle.

Mental note again: my body was still of a 5-year-old, so it had a lousy muscle memory. This could be disadvantaging for me, since my body's just as bad as when I was ridden with cancer. I should improve my strength and agility.

I also wrote everything I knew about Yasu from his memories to the journal; separating his likes and mine, his dislikes and mine—to the extent that I figured out anyway.

Sun was setting by the time I finished my notes. The sky reminded me of a canvas, streaked with reddish-orange with a line of indigo forming beneath the horizon. I leaned on my chair, twirling my pen as I carefully watched the sun going down and clouds fluffing together into gray-colored cumulonimbus from the window.

Or at least something like that, I didn't brush up my meteorology jargon at my stay in the hospital.

So. Winter. I stretched my arms and yawned loudly, shuddering from the chilly air in the room. Snow blanketed the entire district with thin layer of white globs, which would grow thicker if no one were to clean it. Well, it's good that most people here had been pretty hardworking and diligent in my judgement as I had seen them working and doing stuff in their lives like busybody ants.

Speaking of which, I hadn't even known yet what town was this.

Eh, I could ask that later.

It's really cold here, maybe because of the thin and white walls. I heard that Asians use white walls to preserve cold during summer, but I thought that was only in tropical climates...? Eh, I really should brush up my knowledge and find out more about this place.

My eyelids felt rather heavy.

I dropped my chin to my arms which were curled together over the textbook. If it was a simple nap, Mother surely wouldn't mind to wait a while. I was not much of a heavy sleeper—in my opinion anyways.

I closed my eyes and—

* * *

><p>—and I opened my eyes to see Kurama smirking at me across the— wait.<p>

How the fuck did this happen?

I took a momentary glance to scan my surroundings before returning my gaze to him. Apparently, I was standing on this familiar-looking harbor just straddling a beautiful, green-watered bayou and somehow the sun was still up. A wooden cabin stood out from the edge of my periphery but I ignored it as I stalked to the harbinger of chaos and misery, stomping each of the wooden log to make my way to him.

"What," I growled out, "are you doing to me?"

Then I blinked.

My voice had changed.

Whereas it was a strong, rather semi-mezzo pitch which most boys used to possess before this, my voice diluted at least half-pitch lower into a clear sound. If I were to describe it in metaphors, if my earlier voice was a chirp of bird, the current one resembled clear bells.

Unlike what had happened before, it brought me comfort—like a piece of my identity returned. Like a piece of puzzle was rediscovered and fitted with its crowd.

"What exactly do you mean, Natalia?"

His inquiry snapped me out of my mind and I returned glaring at him, folding my hands across my chest.

Wait. I certainly didn't remember having boobs as Yasu, but apparently my past life had boobs. Wait, so I was reborn into a young boy's body and all that time...

The realization was surprisingly... unsurprising. I felt nothing regarding the sex switch in this current life, which would be quite unusual as I usually would freak out about something like this. Instead... I only felt something akin to resignation.

Geez, since when did I turn into such a submissive?

My gaze slid over to Luca, finding the familiar amusement dancing inside his golden eyes. After I watched him closer, his hair wasn't exactly that black—under the right lighting, his black strands turned into deep, Prussian blue which clashed against each other as they bathed in the light. Adding more to the ethereal Salesman of Hell appearance.

"You know what I mean." I snapped at him. Seriously I needed to work on that anger management. "About the questions. All of these fucking memories...! What did you do to me?" I finally settled, staring at his eyes dead on. "What did you do to me?"

Much to his amusement—and my ire, he smiled wryly. "Temper, temper," Luca crooned at me, wagging his finger at me like I was a puppy, "you are going to get killed with that kind of temper, somedays."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have saved me."

His smile dropped in an instant, replaced with a look of astonishment.

Was that really me who said that?

Dread coiled around my guts, turning my blood cold and hot over and over again. Luca's shocked face embedded deep in my mind as I gulped down my unease.

Shit, I didn't mean it.

"Sorry," I started, threading on my words carefully as not to offend him. He managed to control his face into a strained smile as I broke into words. "Shit, sorry. I didn't mean it. I- sorry. Luca—"

His strained smile dissipated a bit, before resurfacing to his pretty features as a more believable smirk. "I get it a lot, Natalia, so apologizing about it won't help." A sudden flash suddenly fleeted in his eyes. It disappeared before I could read more into it.

Despite his words, I still found myself guilty from the attitude. Internally, I sighed—why wouldn't these problems get any easier? Now because of my own temper, I probably disconnected my relationship with the only possible benefactor slash person who knew me more than anyone else in this world.

Luca might be Salesman of Hell, but he still had feelings... right? Or was all of these also his tricks?

This man's impossible to read.

I let out a soft sigh, massaging my temples a bit as I directed my eyes to said man. "I still feel bad, so I want to apologize, okay?" When he didn't react to it, only widening his smirk a touch, I continued. "Can we discuss like normal people? What about this: I ask questions, you give out answers. There, problem solved."

There was a moment of silence, followed with a bristle of wind as he pondered over my suggestion. Okay, the discussion part was a bit naïve. When I had suggested it like that, it sounded like an interrogation.

_**NOT**_ like he didn't deserve it, but I should probably choose better wordings. Now, there's no way he would accept—

"Alright. That is fine by me."

...

_Yes way._

* * *

><p>Luca led me to the wooden cabin on the outskirts of the lovely bayou. The wind in this place clashed out with each other, as if in some sort of turmoil—like my current mind. Several times, I saw Luca's golden eyes glinting in mirth as he turned to me from the edge of his eyes.<p>

I stiffened when he opened the cabin's door—only to reveal a cozy-looking place greeting me inside. Warily, I stepped inside the cabin with him—feeling another surge of familiarity settled on my chest. While it was comforting, it also begged the question: _Why?_

Why did this place feel more like... 'home'—rather than Kotone's house...?

As if reading my mind, Luca drawled out behind me. "This was a place in your past life as Natalia. I'm really surprised that even after all of this, you still remember the cabin." A soft smile tilted on his lips. Golden eyes gleamed in the illumination at me, challenging my reactions.

I wouldn't give him anything. Fuck with being civil with him. He irritated me on first sight, anyway.

So, I simply went to what I assumed as the dining room, before pulling out a chair from the table. Sitting down on the chair—feeling strands of brown hair swept past my shoulders, I patiently waited for Luca to settle into the seat across me.

As he strolled across the table to pull a chair, I found myself immersed in my reflection on the mirror. Shoulder-length brown hair with bangs framing over sharp, apple-green eyes. Small, diminutive figure with almost no curves at all. Next to Akimori Yasuhiro, my real form was a definite plain Jane; as the only thing that stood out from me was my eyes.

Imagine that, comparing me to a small kid and I was already brought down to knees. Well, excuse me for not having the ethereal beauty of the Akimoris! Or any Hidemotos...

Urgh.

The slight brittling of chair against wooden floor caught my attention. I settled my gaze on Luca—whose gaze never left me even when he sat down. I squirmed under the stare, uncomfortable on the heavy scrutiny as he paid me one.

Well, Kurama indeed had both beautiful face and figure. The same golden eyes Mother and I possessed pretty much ran in the Hidemoto family as a distinguishing feature. His messy, odd-colored hair (it was freaking Prussian blue under the lighting, god) fell attractively around his eyes and slightly symmetrical, feminine face. Feminine as in proud nose, high cheekbones, full lips, and thick eyelashes. Strong jaws, too.

And I had never—**_never_**—talked to a guy this hot before.

Sad to say that Mark's not as beautiful as this guy.

I gulped down my nervousness, just the same time as Luca began to ask. "Well, what do you want to know?" Eyes training on me intently—as if not wanting to let me go.

I coughed, averting my eyes from him before creating more embarassment to myself. "Well, uh...," frowning, I leant on the table, "let's start on how did we get here."

He smiled. "Elaborate further."

"What?" I narrowed my eyes. "Oh. I mean, this... cabin. This place. I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

Luca hummed; a tuneless sound just to fill the silence. "Yes. Your body has indeed entered delta state." And before I could reply, he already continued. "And correct again; you're dreaming."

"Oh." I had no absolute ways to react to that revelation. "Uh... 'Kay. Well, if this is my mind—or something like that," I slowly looked up to his eyes, "how... How did you enter?"

After the hesitant trail behind my question, he began to chuckle. A chill ran up my spine from the guttural sound. "Your mind—as strong as it is," his eyes flashed with something else before it disappeared, "or it will be, wouldn't still be able to stand the pressure of something like me."

"Can I get stronger? Uh, so at least something weaker than you couldn't enter?" Privacy, please. Geez.

An amused smile quirked on his lips. "That could be arranged." He finally drawled out, eyes still intent on me like predator on its prey.

"Uh," I instinctively drew back. "Uh. Thanks. Or something." I cleared my throat again, attempting to look more professional—althought it would be futile against this guy. "So, what are you? Salesman from Hell?" Now the ultimate question had been thrown out, I'd like to see how would this guy respond to it.

Luca blinked—twice, before letting out a series of rather cute-sounding guffaws from his mouth.

I blinked.

When his guffaws were reduced to rather hysterical chuckles, he looked at me again while wiping tears of amusement from his eyes. "Aaah, I seriously forgot you're still doing that." This time, I could recognize the melancholy that lighted his features.

"Doing what?" Despite my appreciation of his laugh, I still couldn't help a scowl entering my face.

Then, as quick as the disappearance of the melancholy, Luca leaned closer to me, still smirking. After a short pause of awkward silence, he answered. "Giving nicknames."

My face burst red and he snickered again, this time hiding behind his pretty hand.

I threw up my hands and shook my head in exasperation. Seriously. One would think he wasn't that shaken from my earlier jab.

"That's not what I'm trying to say, Luca..." I retorted to him dryly— and was caught in a surprise when I saw a flittering weariness fleeted across his face.

"I know." He smiled, tilting his head. "I know."

When after that we wouldn't seem to say anything, I decided to pick up the conversation where I had left it off. Mustering a bit of courage, I cleared my throat. "Uh, so, uh, yeah. Are you Salesman of Hell?" Seeing his slightly puzzled expression, I corrected myself immediately. "Uh, I mean: demons? Are you the Dark Lord, Satan? If that so then you should know that it's been my flabby butt's that spoken to you so don't hold offense of any sort to me—"

"Your rear is not flabby."

What?

He scrunched his face a bit. "Your rear is not flabby at all."

I nearly smacked my forehead, feeling heat transferred into my head. Why oh why, why did he have to be that sort of guy? I felt like blushing—oh my god if I was blushing from the comment then I was not as cool as I had thought.

"... You're really missing the point, Luca." I muffled out from the cracks of fingers on my face.

He still looked slightly puzzled, but answered my original question nonetheless. "If that's what you say. And no, I am not a demon." His face brightened considerably. "I'm a fallen angel."

"Oh." I processed that information before it trully embedded deep into my mind. "Wait. What?"

I needed sleep. A lot.

"Ooh!" To my eternal dismay, his face lit up like a child finding out Christmas' going early. "That is the first time I have you stunned!"

Ignoring his pointed finger and the earlier statement, I found myself heaving a small sigh. "Fallen angel. Right." I snorted. "Nice to get that covered, but seriously. What are—"

_—you...?_

The question stopped on the edge of my mouth as I slid my gaze to meet Luca's. He was wearing a frown; the first time I had seen since his first appearance. A disappointed frown—as if he was truly disappointed that I hadn't believed in him.

My mouth drew into a thin line. Did it truly matter to him that I believed him? If so... why...?

Why should that concern me?

"Okay." Rephrasing my words, I started again. "I'm sorry. But this—all of these are a lot to take in. Please give me some time to uh, adjust." I looked up to his troubled eyes. "Can you give me that?"

His eyes grew rather clouded before they dissipated; leaving cold, cold eyes staring at me. Luca smiled. "Of course."

I flinched at the cold tone he took. But the damage's been done. I should take responsibilities for what I had done... now.

"Thanks." I breathed. "Can we continue from what we left off?"

Luca offered me a polite smile. "Of course."

I nodded unsurely. "... 'Kay. So." I cleared my throat again, pondering over my next words. "Why this world? Why not... other world?"

The steel he had gained disappeared a bit as he took his time muling over his answer. "Do you understand the concept of parallel worlds?"

I shook my head. Generally, pretty much. Specifically, not so.

Then, with the patience of something which had traces of Angel in himself, Luca began to explain. "Parallel worlds are different worlds which exist on a separate planes of reality but as a cohesive unit. They are governed with the same laws of physics, usually; or if they aren't, there are very similar aspects between those worlds." He eyed me. "Are you getting all of these, Natalia?"

I hesitantly nodded. A pretty different explanation than what I had expected, but meh. About the planes, however... could it possibly be similar to what I had learned during my spiritual study about human planes and the stuff like that?

"If you're thinking about the planes that you learned in your previous life, then yes. It is correct."

How did this guy know what I was thinking, but I could never get him?

Without my reply, Luca had already continued. "They are very balanced, and usually interacted with one another as a set. Now, your world is a curious thing."

My right eye twitched.

"It has never really crossing over to this world and the such of that, although very similar concepts and history could be found between them. You can probably remember them as... TV shows and books... There are many parallel world in this set, and many more in existence."

I held up a hand, feeling a light headache coming over from the sudden knowledge. "Go on."

Luca appeared very satisfied with my response. "As a fallen angel, I acquired extreme power and can transport you between dimensions or worlds. This is the closest world to yours."

I scrunched my eyebrows. "Then, why not transport me to farther world when you don't want these guys to found me?"

He blinked, before a smile blossomed on his lips. A rueful smile. "You still remember... Well, even though this is the closest world, the energy it took me to transport you had consumed me thoroughly. I had to... unfortunately take a rest for a few days to restore my energy before coming through here. As it was, the other reason was that if I were to use more energy, I would leave a trail." His eyes turned glazed for a moment, before returning their original sharp stature. "A trail meaning more worlds to their discoveries. And more realm to take over."

I bit my bottom lip in worry. I see now. "Okay, got it."

He laughed, pointing at my wrist. I jerked with a start and held it up to my eyes—discovering the tattoo contract, as he continued. "That's our bond, Natalia. Thankfully, with the bond I could find you easier than without one. Your soul truly had strengthened my energy."

At the aforementioned soul and energy, I still scrunched my face. "Does that mean you tapped into my soul to get some boost? Wow."

He sighed. "Sharp as always, Natalia."

"Wow. I feel so violated. No offense, dude, but that's creepy."

He sighed again. "I am aware of that phrasing, Natalia."

A more comfortable silence passed between us. I shuffled my feet together, squirming on the chair. "Well," I decided, making Luca's head tilt up to face me, "so any tips for me? To survive in this world, I mean."

After a while, he offered me a wry smile. "Fate is a dangerous thing, Natalia. To change your fate means that you will attract attentions from dangerous beings. Probably even more dangerous than me." Then, he leaned closer, as I was discouraged from his earlier pursues. "But that only applies to the whole main story. As you humans often call it: ah, the plot. However, the small details though...," his grin turned shark-like. "Changing the small details won't really affect much, won't it?"

Then he winked at me, and the world around me dispersed into darkness.

That sly, sly guy leaving me in the dark again. How annoying.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

AT LAST! I was having an incredibly hard time writing this chapter, so I hope you guys like the results! :D Not to mention I got sick at New Year's Eve, so... ugh.

So, Merry belated Christmas and Happy New Year! Hope all of you who reviewed, faved, and alerted this story will get the best in this year! You guys rock! Everytime I see any email notifications regarding this story, I feel extremely blessed!

However, I want to complain a bit about the reviews. If there's any suggestions, critics, or anything at all, please do send! I really want to improve this story, and I won't be able to do it without your help, guys!

Anyways, I'll see you next chapter! Ciao!

P.S: Currently stuck at my love for Rurouni Kenshin. About to write a SI OC fic like this one. Thoughts?


	4. Hide and Seek

**Despite Your Reasons**

**Disclaimer: **Katekyo Hitman Reborn belongs to Amano Akira-_sensei_. I only own the idea of the story and my character, that's all.

**Warnings: **AU. Slow development. Several genderbends. Male!OC; biologically. OC's POV. Contains violence and mild sexual themes in later chapters. Contains relatively many OCs.

**Summaries:** Exchanging souls with a supposedly dead boy did not bode well for an adult female like her. Especially since she finds out that the universe she's been dumped in is actually made of dying wills, Flames, assassins, and the mafia. Well, it's better to move on from that to something else; like, why is Tsuna a girl?

**Listening to: **Hide and Seek—Imogen Heap.

* * *

><p><em>"Where are we? What the hell is going on?<em>

_The dust has only just begun to fall,_

_Crop circles in the carpet, sinking, feeling._

_Spin me 'round again and rub my eyes._

_This can't be happening."_

_**—Imogen Heap, "Hide and Seek"**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4: Hide and Seek<strong>

Surprisingly, my chest didn't feel so empty after my talk with Luca. Something resembling a big, fat boulder setting on both of my shoulders also dropped as well. Well, not that fast, but it's like carrying a sack filled with rubbles. Each day, a rock dropped out of the bag, making the burden weighed lesser and lesser to an extent.

He never contacted me again after the first time, but I had occasional glimpses of golden eyes from the edge of my periphery each days.

Somehow either, Kotone—um, Mother looked like she's also relieved from a heavy burden after my talk with Luca. Not that I had seen more from her, since she was always going to work. Each day. From dusk to dawn.

Okay, that was a bit exaggerating but she could be more considerate to her just-got-into-a-death-situation son and well, stayed home. Maybe tending him a bit.

And not just preparing some meals for breakfast and lunch so that I could reheat it whenever I was hungry.

Come to think of it, the food supplies in this house were a bit... lacking.

How could I have noticed that?

Oh, maybe because the last time I opened the fridge it was to pickled ginger with some salted fish.

And when Kotone came home that day, holding two bags full with what I had assumed as groceries, I had several suspicions in my mind. But then, she regarded me with a guilty and apologetic smile before pulling up two cups of instant ramen from a bag. Quietly, she went to the kitchen and came back with both cups peeled open, steams rising from each of them. Understanding her intentions, I went to seat on the dining table as she set down our dinner with trembling hands.

As we ate our dinner, her only words were these.

"Yasu-kun, until next month we can only eat ramen. Is that okay with you?"

I spared the glance over the grocery bags, noting that they were only filled with instant ramen and instant ramen alone.

That's when I realized something was wrong.

It took me a day to realize it—from my observation of the lack of heater, Mother's persistence on saving both water and electricity, the glaring coldness of winter seeping into our bodies, and now this.

We're poor.

In fact, we're one of the poorest families in our town, Namimori.

(So uh, yeah. Apparently Namimori here was a real town in this world. I almost had a heart-attack when I first heard it from Mother.)

But apparently not poor enough that Mother couldn't enroll me into a school.

What did that mean to me?

Monday had arrived.

* * *

><p>Kindergarden was a zoo filled with screaming, yelling, crying monkeys. Monkeys as in children.<p>

My kindergarden was no different. Even with their elite looks, high-fenced gates and fancy-looking playground; the children managed to somehow dirtied the entire are as they forced teachers to run after them. An amazing feat as it was covered with a thin layer of snow.

Personally I held no grudge nor a burning hatred for children. In fact, I really like children! I even raised one... as in my younger sister who turned out to be a back-stabber.

Yikes.

But seeing one drooling over their notebooks, one screaming my ears off with the sheer intensity of the volume, and many, many more...

I was more than ready to turn tail from here and run.

Before I had actually proceeded to do just like that, Mother turned to me with guilty eyes. The sheer guilt had stunned me to my place, making it easy for her to scoop me up into her arms, hugging me tightly. As if she didn't want to let me go.

Her body was plump, and had a pleasant tingle of cherry blossoms fragrance to it. Something warm broke and filled into my chest. Finally snapped from my sudden surprise, I returned her hug—trying to convey my message for her: I also didn't want to let her go.

"I'm sorry." Her words tickled my ear. "Can you still love me, Yasu-kun?"

I didn't hesitate to answer that question, even as my chest clenched from the lie. "You're my mother. Of course I love you."

But I still couldn't imagine her as my mother.

"Be a good boy, Yasu. Don't get into fights." She scolded me, finally releasing me from her tight grip. Kotone's face looked weary in the lighting, but still held an edge of cheerfulness that gave her life. She was still pretty, with pleasant symmetrical features and fiery eyes that shone golden.

She had good eyes.

I nodded dolefully. "Of course, Okaa-sama." I forced a grin. "I'm your son, after all."

Her eyes softened. "Indeed, Yasu-kun. Indeed." She gave a light ruffle to my hair before standing up. "I'm going to work, now." Her hands fidgeted with the edge of her shirt; a sign of nervousness she often displayed when she was thinking about making a mistake.

How trustful, ma.

I simply smiled wryly. "I can manage myself, Okaa-sama. It's okay. I'll just go to my friends!"

She relaxed after hearing my words, and at this point I was wondering who's the parent and who's the child. "Oh, Yoshino-kun and Yoru-kun, right? They are good boys. Shame they couldn't visit you when—" her eyes flashed in distant melancholy before she shook her head. "Forget it. Have fun, then, Yasu-kun!"

And then, I was left alone in the playground.

A sigh escaped my lips as I gave another run-through in my mind. Dumb down your vocabularies, keep smiling, pretend that you know all of them even when it's only from Yasu's memories, and then...

I giggled evilly.

First step, of course; I must find this black-haired kid named Yoshino and his brother, Yoru.

* * *

><p>Morikage Yoshino; one of Akimori Yasu's best-friends whom he let into his almost nonexistent circle of interaction. He was two months younger than Yasu, as he was born in May—which would be the season for cherry blossoms. Hence his name, which was derived from a cherry blossom subspecies Yoshino-sakura.<p>

When I first saw him in Yasu's memories, his appearance matched his name perfectly. His hair was a soft, velvety black silk, framing his porcelain-white skin with its 'M'-shaped bangs. His entire figure looked frail as if a mere touch would break him down into a crumble of dust. He was pretty, to summarize the whole thing.

To see the person himself was extremely different from the memories.

"Yasuhiro!" Same dwarf-ish figure, with two hands on each of his hips. His hair was black—also the same in the memories down to their exact bangs and the way they billowed in the wind. His skin, while smooth-looking, wasn't exactly porcelain-white with the hint of tan here and there.

However, his eyes...

Electric-blue might wouldn't suffice as a mere distinctive trait. His eyes were sharp, angry-looking. His eyebrows were furrowed in a way that would create the assumption that this kid had set a frown and a glare as his default expression. But the mere essence of his eyes...

I couldn't exactly describe them, to my eternal frustration. Something was definitely alive there; leaping, igniting, coiling, lurking around his eyes like a wild beast waiting for a prey.

This boy was a natural-born predator.

As I approached him with a hesitant smile, the pretty boy never faltered from his stance and simply glared. Like he was trying to bore two holes into my cranium, brains, until it reached the back of my head.

And with that glare, an accompanying scowl deepened in his thin lips.

What a fearsome kid.

"Ahahaha," I rubbed my nose sheepishly. "Hi, Yoshino-kun! How are you? By the way, where's Yoru-kun?"

"Don't you dare distract me." He hissed, nostrils flaring like an angry bull. "What were you doing? The first thing you had to do after we left was to play soccer at the lake!"

"Oh, look at the fluffy clouds, Yoshino-kun! What a lovely day to run, huh?"

"YA. SU. HI. RO." He roared, enunciating each particles of my name like they were all worth trampling. I winced as those electric-blue eyes darkened at my obvious attempt on changing the subject.

So, I decided to pull an oblivious guy act. Still rubbing my nose in embarrassment, I made a quick reply to pacify his anger. "Well, it was an accident, but I was clearly uninjured you see, so there, there. It's all fine after all, so—"

Yoshino now folded his arms across his chest, an eyebrow raised, a foot tapping impatiently to the pavement below his sneakers.

_Tap tap tap._

As scary as he was right now, his actions were still readable for me. And his eyes... Even with their frustrating aspect of being so... so alive, they proved as the best way to read him!

There's an incredibly deep concern for Yasu embedding deep down in that boy.

I smiled.

He scowled.

"You didn't wake up." Yoshino suddenly stated. "Mama visited you at the hospital, but you didn't wake up." His eyes were cast down so I couldn't read anything more from him.

There was a 2-week span in which Yasu's body recuperated from the sudden strain. I wouldn't have known that if Mother didn't tell me so. In Limbo, time worked differently than in the real world.

He must be really worried, then.

"Yeah, sorry for that." I apologized, rubbing my nose vigorously as guilt gnawed in my chest. That didn't really last long however, because then my eyes caught a really fast blur of white and before I knew it I was already on the ground with someone above me.

"YASU-CHAN!" It loudly wailed into my ears. "I really missed you!"

Oh for fuck sake.

Thankfully someone pried that latching blur of white from me, even as he struggled not to let me go and managed to kick some spots on my body. Ouch. "Now, now, Yoru-kun," a female voice spoke, softly as if to soothe a cornered animal. "What did I say about greeting Yasu-kun?"

I blinked, staring up to the looming figure belonged to that female voice.

Miura-sensei grinned at me, holding a pouting boy with one hand.

I expected Yasu's memories to surface forward into my mind. As soon as they dispersed, I began to make deductions about her. Miura-sensei was a gentle teacher, if not sometimes being quite energetic with the kids. I could somewhat trust her from her honesty.

Oddly, something was incredibly familiar with her name...

Similar thing too with Kurokawa-sensei who handled me during my stay...

Probably just me.

Anyway, said boy—which I noticed to have unnatural, white hair—was still pouting at- well, everyone. "Senseeeei!" He whined. "But Yasu-chan's already well and it turns out that he's still alive!"

Of course I would be alive, you dimwit. If not, then I wouldn't have been standing here with you.

"But it's not polite to crash at him." She remarked back, still with a soothing voice and smiling eyes. "What if you hurt him, Yoru-kun?"

And as Morikage Yoru ceased his struggles, memories of him flashed into my eyes.

He's an albino with distinctive white hair and reddish-brown eyes. Yoru always had this odd cheerful vibes pouring out of him like an aura. That strung me up as something false.

How did someone manage to deliver just that kind of thing if they're not highly trained?

Eh, maybe that's just me.

"Are you alright, Yasu-kun?"

It took me a moment to realize that she was talking about my- er, Yasu's accident and not me spacing out and checking Yasu's memories like a scholar checking out books in the library. Not that. Totally. Yep.

"Yep!" I chirped out, grinning at her. "I'm healthy as a horse!"

She chuckled at my enthusiasm and only ruffled my hair fondly. Despite my initial dislike of being belittled, hair-ruffling became another mundane thing in my child year.

"Best be careful, okay?"

"Un." I nodded, bobbing my head up and down. She gave another light ruffle to my head, before trailing her fingers across my messy, black hair. I watched her meticulously as a light blush splattered across her lightly freckled skin.

Oh. Oh yeah. Yasu had an incredibly cute face.

Apparently Yoru also had the same thought, conveyed by his sudden tackle—which almost toppled me to the ground. Someone should put a leash on this overexcited puppy.

This time, Yoshino came to my rescue by plucking the older boy from my clothes with such ease. He looked like he was holding a book instead of a child his age with one hand. How strong was he, possibly?

Then, I remembered that he managed to punch Yasu and knocked him out for one good hour.

Very strong, likely.

"Nii-san," Yoshino reprimanded with an oddly softened voice, something I thought wouldn't be possible for this wild kid. "Please behave yourself." He let out a long, suffering sigh before sending me an awfully apologetic look.

His eyes basically screamed all of his emotions while still holding that wild expression. Dude, that's an extremely cool thing to pull off.

I only beamed at both Yoshino and Yoru. "Thanks, Yoshino-kun!" Then, I proceeded to embrace those two kids.

Yoru had latched to me again, laughing and ranting a bunch of things I didn't have the time to catch on. While Yoshino had gone extremely still in my embrace. As still as a wooden log.

Confused, I pulled put to look at his face.

Even as he had his head cast down, I could still crouch. That I did—now lo and behold! Yoshino's face was set aflame into a brilliant red. What an amazing feat!

As I admired him, Miura-sensei couldn't hold off her urges and squealed loudly, scooping the three of us; me with my beaming eyes, Yoshino with his blushing face, and the ever-ranting Yoru into her arms.

"You guys are too cute for your own sake!"

Please not the cheek-rub, not the cheek-rub. No, please, anything but that—

...

She rubbed her cheek against us.

* * *

><p>The day dragged on with a snail's pace. It's not that I disliked both the boys' companies beside me, but the rest of the children drowned their presences. Some kids asked if I was alright and vice-versa, and even though I appreciated their concern I was already content with Yoshino and Yoru asking me about my well-being.<p>

Speaking of which, I also learned that they're actually not real brother. More of sworn-brothers. Like in mafia or yakuza stuff. Did they realize how dangerous the situation could be? Because hello what if said sworn-brother decided not to stick with you till the end? Some clearly didn't explain these boy anything about those dangerous stuff about not telling anyone.

However, if those boys _were_ in the yakuza, I'd better stay in a respectable distance. I didn't need anymore danger in my life.

"Yasuhiro." Yoshino's voice snapped me from my trance. I blinked, clearing blurry figures of my past family from my inner mind. When I looked up, the ever-so-familiar electric-blue eyes greeted my view. He sat beside my spot, crossing his legs Indian-style and seemed uncaring to the snow and dirt. All of that time, his eyes never left mine.

I only smiled again. "Hi, Yoshino-kun."

Something shifted in his eyes as he took a glance to the nearby sandbox, before returning to me. What was he doing? I tilted my head to side in confusion.

"Why are you looking at her?"

Wait, what?

"_Her_?" I parroted, confusion filling my expression in no haste.

Yoshino only jerked his head to a direction, encouraging me to see where exactly he had meant. Of course, I took my cue and turned to the same direction he showed me.

'Her' turned out to be a youthful girl with apricot-colored hair and wide, hazel eyes. Her chubby hands were busy building a crumbling sand-castle, caked with dirt and grime. Underneath those dirt was a smooth-looking skin. But that wasn't the reason I now was fixated on her.

It would be Yasu's memories that contained her.

_Sasagawa Kyoko._

The name of one of the female characters in Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

As if trying to cement my suspicion, a boy with gray hair also came to my view, running to Kyoko's side. Yasu didn't really know about him, but something felt familiar with the high-pitched yell of 'Extreme' and his bandaged hands which hid sun-kissed skin beneath them...

"Onii-san!"

"Ah, Kyoko! What are you doing? Oh! It's Morikage's younger brother too! Hello, Morikage's younger brother."

Beside me, I could Yoshino's slightly stunted reply. "Ryohei-nii."

Oh no this couldn't be happening. This ain't happening.

Oh. Fucking. No.

"Ryohei-nii?" I could hear my slightly murmured confusion. Yoshino turned to me, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. Sasagawa Ryohei, he's a year older than us..." The boy enunciated slowly, staring at me like I had sprouted two heads or something. Which would be something unpeculiar to me nowadays.

God, I needed help. Serious help. Incredibly serious help.

Thankfully, Yoru decided to pop out from who-knew-where beside Yoshino—scaring him momentarily as he then grabbed the front of my sweater and simply pulled himself to me. "Ryohei-kun! I want to join your boxing club!" His voice rang high-pitched clear, and I watched in horror as Ryohei began to open his mouth as well.

"EXTREME! Thanks for joining, Morikage!" Oh my god. Something was bursting and it would be my eardrums. "Now fight me!"

Everything blurred into a drone; like a murmur in the background. I felt Yoshino pushing away from me, ears red from embarrassment. But the touch didn't linger on too long as I focused on to my scrambling, panicked thoughts.

_Sasagawa Kyoko._

_Sasagawa Ryohei._

Both were—_supposedly_—characters from Katekyo Hitman Reborn. Something that's not real. Oh my god they're real and they're in front of me right now oh shit oh my god oh no please not this kind of shit pleasepleasepleaseplease—

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

I... I needed some time alone.

Hoisting myself upwards, I met Yoshino's questioning eyes and simply smiled. My voice then broke out to tell him that I would be going for some fresh air, except that I couldn't really feel myself saying those words. I knew my lips moved, and this distant vibrate humming behind my throat also signaled my voice. Before I even registered what happened, my feet already took me into someplace else from the playground.

I could be falling into a trance.

...

I shouldn't be thinking of that.

Okay, I needed to breathe.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Sasagawa Kyoko and Ryohei. Characters from Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

_Katekyo Hitman Reborn._

For some reason, I started counting to ten; feeling the number calming me down as I kept walking. I didn't know where to. I just kept walking. And walking. And walking—

"Hey! Watch out!"

A dash of ball-shaped thing flurried before me in a velocity I hadn't even dared to imagine. It hit the tree beside me with a loud crack—stunning me for a moment because it sounded so similar to the lake accident—and fell to the ground with a small thud. A chill descended on my body, almost making it hard to see that the ball had created a dent on the tree bark.

Oh my god I nearly died again. Moreover, who the heck played baseball in winter?!

"Are you okay?"

A cheerful voice rang out nearby, coming from the field. I turned my head to meet an actual Japanese-looking kid—although I wouldn't deny his handsome features as well. His brown eyes glittered under the sunlight, and the sheepish grin on his face was even more blinding.

Behind him, I could hear some shouts demanding him to come back.

"Just wait a second, guys!" He yelled out, laughing before turning again to me. His eyes lighted up when he seemed to have recognized me, just as the tanned boy pointed. "Hey, aren't you Akimori Yasuhiro? Why aren't you at the field? They're playin' soccer, ya know."

I blinked. "You know me?"

Japanese Boy grinned back. "'f course! You sold me that rare baseball card! Of course I'd know you."

I stared at him strangely as he kept beaming rainbows and sunshine at me. Oddly, Yasu's memories seemed to have been blocked—like running to a wall. Instead, Natalia's memories came rushing into my mind.

Yamamoto Takeshi. Rain Guardian. _Vongola._

I almost groaned in exasperation. Why Katekyo Hitman Reborn? Why not other stuff like Bleach or Rurouni Kenshin or whatever?

...

Why not?

Fuck, this was getting confusing. I scratched the base of neck absentmindedly, training my eyes on the now crouching boy who was probably looking for the ball he had probably thrown or hit or whatever. Again, he looked like a native Japanese—which kind of calmed me down and also struck an odd feeling in me, since other people surrounding me had some European or not-Japanese traits in their blood.

Yoshino had those blue eyes, obviously, and the slight lilt of his cheekbones which had an European touch on them. Yoru had white hair and red eyes; need to say anything longer? Ryohei, as well—surprisingly, with his greyish hair and dearest Kyoko even with her ginger hair.

Japanese-Boy's appearance seemed... normal—in the most attractive ways as well but hey; he's the only one who had normal hair and eyes coloring around here beside Miura-sensei.

"Akimori, are you alright?"

His voice snapped me back to reality. I quickly pasted a smile to my face, greeting his own cheerful one. Heh. His mother must had been dreaming of sunshine and rainbows the entire time when she was carrying him. "I'm fine, thanks! Was that you throwing the ball?"

He bobbed his head up and down in enthusiasm. "Yep! I'm the pitcher today."

Mental note: I shouldn't go anywhere near the fields when this guy's playing. His pitches were another new level of scary.

"Oi, Yamamoto! Hurry up!"

... Wait.

Yamamoto?

The grinning Japanese-Boy beside me sent me an apologetic look before patting me on my shoulder. "I'm going, now. See ya later, Akimori!"

"Wait." Need to confirm suspicion. My hand tugged his sleeve, stopping him deadtrack in his mid-jog. The boy turned to me, still smiling even in confusion. "Yamamoto Takeshi?"

Yamamoto Takeshi laughed, eyes sparkling like crazy after I said something I just regretted in my whole life. "You remember! I thought you didn't, but you do!"

My head started to spin.

"Oh," I managed out, almost stumbling the process. My breaths came out in a ragged pattern—and with a familiarity of an **_almost-like_**—and this time, Yamamoto looked at me with a concerned expression. "Oh."

"Akimori?"

I must be in a nightmare.

And then with black spots slowly obscuring my vision, I fainted.

* * *

><p>"Yasu-kun! Yasu-kun!"<p>

Warm bed. Warm blanket. Was that medicine?

I groaned, shifting the warm thingy I was clutching on my hands. Soft thingy. Wake me up later, bitches. So... so warm...

Mother? Was that you?

"Yasu-kun! Yasu-kun!"

This felt familiar...

My cheek stung, something warm slapped against it repeatedly. Definitely Mother. I groaned, swatting away the offending hand. "Later, Mother. 'm... Tired..."

There was pause.

Relinquishing in that silence, I sagged deeper onto the pillow and heaved a blissful sigh. What a beautiful day to sleep.

Unfortunately as I began to sink back into the cocooning embrace of the darkness, said offending hand was back with revenge. "Yasu-kun! Yasu-kun!"

Whoa, no need to shake my body that hard, Mother!

I snapped my eyes open and stared with half-lidded eyes to Kotone's blurry figure, squinting to clear the blurs down. As it didn't work, I just shook an unimpressed finger at her while tutting, slurring my sentences. Kotone's figure was jelly-shaped. Odd. She's got pretty hourglass figure~

"Okaa-sama," I reprimanded her, still squinting. Damn, I wouldn't get glasses any time soon, right? "What did I say about waking me up in this hour? It's still Sunday and you know I wouldn't get to school until Monday." I giggled. "Silly Kaa-chan."

"Um, Yasu-kun." Odd, Kotone's voice was fruity. Not this uh. What's that called again? Scratchy? No. Uh um. Ahh, so warm... Oh, shrilly. Yes, shrilly. "I'm not your mother."

She knew?!

I straightened my back in panic. "Okay, Okaa-sama, that's not what you were thinking. My name is actually Natalia, although you can call me Nate. Who told you, Okaa-sama? Luca? Or Kurama? Or Kuraluca?"

Another moment of silence as Kotone continued to stare at me.

"Yasu-kun, this is Miura-sensei."

Kotone's smiling face twisted and dispersed like a fading mirage. Slowly but surely, consciousness fleeted into my head as Miura-sensei's kind face filled the space Mother had left behind. I dragged my back up to properly face her now, sitting straight instead of the earlier slouch. After a while, I let a smile crawl into my face.

"Hello, sensei. Why am I in bed?"

Miura-sensei directed her gaze knowingly to my side, making me copy her movements as I turned my head—to discover a mountain of fluffy, black hair and tan skin belonged to none other than-

Oh.

I grew faint.

Yamamoto Takeshi.

"He's worried, Yasu-kun." Miura-sensei's voice directed me back to her. She had a pair of beautiful honey-colored eyes, which was as warming as Mother's. They looked as if sunlight had breached some honey-jars and shone through them. "Please don't scare us off like that, again, okay?"

Her gaze locked me into an intense staring session. I gulped down my shame and nodded, feeling something constricted in my chest broke free when she lightened up with her smile.

"Good, then." She patted the crown of my head with a slightly flushed face.

By then, Yamamoto woke up.

He woke up in the cutest way humanity could ever possibly created for a child—with slightly flushed tinge on his chubby cheeks, and a chubby arm was raised to rub his eyelids. Apparently, Miura-sensei had the same thought as I heard her breathing were getting erratically panted out right next to me. When I glanced at her direction, she was sporting a creepy face with drool almost visible from the corner of her mouth and her hands were twitching in vigor.

I inched away in slight mortify. Sorry, Yamamoto, this one's yours.

"Oh!" As soon as I met his dark-chocolate eyes, he visibly brightened up and grabbed my hands in haste. "You're awake! Akimori shouldn't scare other people like that again, you know!" He failed at clucking his tongue, but his eyes seemed to soften a bit as he continued. "You suddenly slept on the ground just like that! That's not good for health, Akimori!" Yamamoto chided me in good-nature, eyes brimming with light and the stuff.

"I- uh...," I managed an awkward nod. "Thanks... For helping me, Yamamoto-san." Then, I added. "You can call me Yasu, though... No need for the formalities."

"Okay, Yasu! Tho...," Yamamoto beamed at me, tilting his head to side like a confused owl although his smile was still intact. "What's formalities?"

Surprisingly, Yoshino was the one who saved me from answering Yamamoto's question. There was a span of silence before a loud bang echoed in the room as Yoshino managed to kick it down, all but bellowing a simple name.

My name.

"YASUHIRO!"

Miura-sensei looked terribly horrified, staring in horror at the now-unhinged door.

Same as her, I now had an utter sense of dread weighing in my stomach, although not with the same reasons as hers. I feared my life which was now in the clutches of a certain pretty, raven-haired blue-eyed boy named Yoshino—who walked through the doorway with the ease and air of a predator. Help me, someone. His eyes shone in slight derange clashing with concern for me, boring in my figure as though a target mark had appeared on me.

Granted, I would have noticed before he did.

"What. Were. You. Doing?"

For each words, he took a step forward—face darkened almost in immediate upon seeing Yamamoto by my side. He pointed at the smiling boy, a scowl deeply etched on his lips. "And what is he doing here?" He gritted out, frustration palpable in his face.

Help me.

* * *

><p>"I still can't believe that you fainted when you saw him." Yoshino hissed at me in fervor, eyes flickering and switching from the illumination. Beside him, Yoru was looking at me in concern and started to ramble some incoherent things that really sounded familiar to my ears.<p>

Miura-sensei had discharged me from the health room and Yoshino's mom had been contacted to inquire about his son's sudden violent streak. From the lack of activities, we simply came back to our classroom (well, technically it's mine and Yoshino's since Yoru was a year older than us) to draw on the papers they had provided us. The sound of children chattering and scrabbling on their papers echoed in the room.

Yoshino was sentenced to write something I really didn't care about, and he did it all the way while grumbling and complaining at me.

It was kind of cute, actually.

I simply laughed, rubbing my nose from the embarassment and half-guilt. "Actually, I fainted because of the ball." He eyed me in disbelieve as I held up my hands. "Hey, it's true! It suddenly went whoosh and it made a hole in the tree and well—"

"Hold on." Yoru suddenly cut in between, voice spoken out with a slight sing-song lilt in the next sentence. "A hole in the tree? Yamamoto-chan must have been super, duper strong then!"

I warily nodded, noticing the sharp glance Yoru sent to Yoshino before he smiled at me again. These boys were hiding something from me... Something I'd rather not having the knowledge of in the end.

"By the way." Yoshino turned to me, eyes narrowed even though I presumed he was only showing concern. "Why did you look so white after seeing Ryohei-nii and Kyoko-san?"

Uh oh. I gulped, mulling over my answers as Yoshino stared at me with an incredibly fervent gaze. Yoru tagged along, leaning his chin on both his palms as he gazed at me merrily.

"I... uh...," Awkward laugh. "Well, it's kinda shocking since well. Uh. Kyoko-san looks prettier than before and Ryohei-nii looks incredibly energetic and uh..."

Dude, I was getting pathetic in this area.

"I see!" All of the sudden, Yoru nodded in enthusiasm, steel clear in his fire-licked eyes. "Yasu-kun was in the hospital, so he must be shocked because they looked different! I see, I see!" Again, he nodded, apparently satisfied by my answer.

Inwardly, I was dumbfounded. Well, that was sort of easy.

To be honest, I still found it excruciatingly hard to believe that I was in the universe of Katekyo Hitman Reborn. There, of all the manga and anime I had respectively read and watched in my past life. I just had to end up in a place where mafia often swarmed around and blood-thirsty people would have all the fun with their weapons.

Wait, I was in Katekyo Hitman Reborn. Did that mean... I had Flames?

I should prove that hypothesis later at home.

"Yasuhiro!"

In instant, I was brought back to reality—vision filled with a pair of faces looking at me in concern. Yoshino looked more pissed than concerned, though, probably because I had ignored him all the time he had called me...

"Yeah?"

He answered me in an incredibly dubios tone. "You were doing it again!"

Deciding to remain oblivious, I only grinned and tilted my head. "Doing what?"

The scowl deepened and his ears turned red as Yoru snickered behind his hand, mirth dancing in his eyes. "Not paying attention to me."

Sorry that your ego needed lavishing and constant love from me.

But giving in to his whims, I gave out a long sigh and simply patted Yoshino's cheek—which was as smooth as its milky appearance. "Yes, yes. Now I do, don't I?"

The skin under my caresses turned red.

Yoshino burst into a very cute shade of pink—either from embarassment or anger, the latter most likely—and was about to jump on me if it wasn't for Miura-sensei and Yoru's help in restraining him.

"No! Let me go! I need to punch something!"

"Yoshi-chan! You can't do that! Mama told us not to!"

"Yoshino-kun! Please don't do that!"

I laughed at the spectacle before me, while the rest of the class peered at the entertainment with curious eyes.

"Yasu-kun! Please stop laughing!" Miura-sensei snapped at me and I immediately cater her wish. I lowered my laugh to a series of snickers while I gazed at Yoshino, whose anger had now subsided.

They were making it very easy to befriend and love them.

I froze.

Oh.

I... I forgot.

Yoshino and Yoru; they were Yasu's friends, not mine. And Miura-sensei was Yasu's teacher.

All of this once belonged to him, and if it wasn't for the single carelessness he had in himself... He would had joined all of them and I...

I didn't deserve this.

I was a foreigner wearing Yasu's body amongst them. I didn't belong here. I never would belong here. I could never—

Something hot swelled behind my eyes, a feeling that must had been connected with this hollow residing in my chest. Unconsciously, I brought a hand upon my beating heart—another memento of what I had taken from a young boy. Seeing the mark signifying my contract with Luca, the hollowness tightened.

I had to live like this until the rest of my life.

Oh god. Oh. I...

"Sensei! Yasu-kun's crying!"

_Huh? What were they—_

My cheeks were wet.

_—talking about...? _

My fingers traced a faint tear-mark which dried as quickly as it streamed on my cheek. I couldn't hold my own surprise, yet I felt nothing exactly bothering when I heard a burst of laughter from the children. A droned out "cry-baby" calling wasn't that cruel.

Not as cruel as what I did to Akimori Yasuhiro.

As I hurriedly wiped my tears, Miura-sensei crouched down beside me. "Yasu-kun...," her voice was heavy with concern. _Please don't do this, I never deserved something like that—_ "what's wrong? Are you hurt?"

I shook my head—_since when did lies are as easily as breaths_—and answered in a shaky voice. "No, sensei... I just...," a lie popped in my head, "I'm grateful that I can still see you guys..."

"Ah," Miura-sensei's voice turned kinder. "We all are happy to see you again, Yasu-kun... So please tell us if there's anything wrong, okay...?" Her hand was so gentle, ruffling on my hand. She almost made me cry again.

... I was undignified.

I didn't deserve anything from them.

Lest kindness and the such.

Just, why were they doing all of this for me...?

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Natalia being angsty much? When she got angsty, her voice of reason turned cheesy btw.

Was that satisfying? I typed this in a scrambled mind because I work best under pressure so, if you spots mistakes here and there and odd fragments of sentencing; it would be my fault. So if you would so kindly point them out, then I would truly be grateful to you guys!

Anyways, here we meet the characters. Was that super anticlimatic or boring? Was that under your expectations? Then, sorry, it was planned that way since the beginning. So in sequence, the first canon character Nate met was Kyoko, then Ryohei. But then she first interacted with Yamamoto! Whoop!

I also added two important original characters. I'm also sorry if I described them as incredibly flat here. But well, uh, both Yoshino and Yoru are still kids and they haven't exactly developed their personalities, so yeah.

Anyway I've just noticed that their names all begin with Y. So we can call them Team Y if they are together in a scene. 8D

I hope you enjoy this chapter and please comment! I need critics mostly since the epically shitty writing orz

Until next time, then!


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